


Patience & Pride

by VioletNova



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bodily Harm, Dalish elf, Demons, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fereldan, Gore, Jaws of Hakkon Spoilers, Magic, Multi, Non-Inquisitor Lavellan, Original Characters - Freeform, Orlais, Panic Attacks, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Solavellan, Some Fluff, Spirits, The Breach - Freeform, The Descent spoilers, The Fade, Torture, Trespasser Spoilers, Trust Issues, Violence, World of Thedas, coarse language, heavy spoilers, memory problems, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletNova/pseuds/VioletNova
Summary: Eirlana doesn't believe in Andraste. Why would she? She's Dalish after all. So why was she sent to the Conclave? And why was she the only one who made it out alive? Bestowed the title of Herald of Andraste, Eirlana must endeavour to save Thedas from a Tevinter plot gone wrong, leaving her marked and changed forever.As she strives to restore order and regain her memory Eirlana will face demons, betrayal, secrets, romance and worst of all...human politics.





	1. Waking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Magnusismyrock](http://magnusismyrock.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading though this to make it actually makes sense!

My ears were ringing, head pounding like many hooves on the ground, and my skin burned with a fever but also tingled with numbness. Cracking my eyes open, world tilted and I instantly regretted it, taking a gasping breath to try to calm my pounding pulse. I tried to reach up and feel the back of my head after feeling something wet trickle down my neck, but found my hands were bound in thick iron shackles and I was kneeling on a stone floor. Looking around, I saw iron bars and that I was surrounded by soldiers.

 _'Prisoner,'_ I thought to myself sadly. But before I could plot any form of escape, a door was shoved open, harshly rattling the hinges, and two middle-aged women walked into the cell, the first armoured and carrying a sword and a shield strapped to her back, stomping through the cell to stand behind me. The second was hooded and wearing a long, almost dress of mail, but was otherwise too hard to make out in the dark. Lady Stomp watched Lady Hood for a moment, before leaning down to demand in a Nevarran accent why she shouldn't kill me where I sit.

"The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except..." Lady Stomp paused, waggling a gauntleted hand at me accusingly, "for you..."

They thought _I_ was responsible? My instinct was to remain silent, letting her words sink in for a moment.

"What do you mean everyone is dead?" I whispered, the tragedy of the event hitting me suddenly. _Haleir, no._ I spoke a silent prayer for the loss in my head as Lady Stomp walked around to stand before me attempting, and succeeding, to intimidate me. She grabbed my left hand roughly, bringing it up to my eyes.

"Explain _this!_ " She barked harshly and a green light flared and crackled from the centre of my palm, sending shooting pains up my arm.

"I-I can't...I don't understand..." What is this thing? How did it get on _me_? I bit my lip from the shooting pain as it flared again. I looked up at the two women beseechingly, trying to make them understand, to believe me.

"What do you mean you _can't?_ "

"I don't know what this thing is or how it got there! Please, you must believe me!" I begged, hating myself for it but I couldn't see another way out of this mess I had somehow landed in.

"I don't." Lady Stomp grabbed me by the shoulders roughly, and I grunted as she tried to lift me off the floor. Lady Hood quickly intercepted her and I was dropped unceremoniously back onto the floor.

"Cassandra! We need her," Lady Hood cautioned the armoured woman, pushing her back away from me, turning to me when she believed she I was safely out of range. But I still shook with the revelation of what they had told me.

"I-I _can't_ believe it. All those people...dead? Surely some made it out?" I begged, searching for a glimpse of hope amongst their faces.

"How did this happen? Do you remember _anything?_ " Lady Hood quizzed me, a resounding _no_ in her words unspoken. _Cassandra_ approached now, looking slightly less enraged.

I thought back desperately to the conclave, trying to connect the few pieces I had left of the event, but finding them mostly missing and those that remained blurry and fragmented.

"Running, I remember running from...something. I'm not sure. I was scared," I rambled, the puzzle pieces not fitting together. "It was so dark. And then...a light; so bright. It was...a woman?" I couldn't be sure. The light had had the figure of a woman, but when I thought on it, I don't remember seeing any particular features that would paint it as either gender.

"A woman?" Lady Hood seemed pleased by this, though still angry and most certainly confused. _That makes two of us._

"It was reaching for me, and then..." I couldn't finish, they knew the rest better that I. Lady Hood and Cassandra swapped places, discussing something between them, and I caught only the last fragments of their conversation.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take _her_ to the rift," Cassandra said and I realised that her Navarran accent made everything sound hostile. This _Leliana_ nodded once to the warrior before continuing on, and Cassandra returned her attention to me, unlocking the shackles and then replacing them with tightly knotted rope.

"What did happen?" I found myself asking and the Nevarran eyed me for a moment as she helped me to stand.

"It...it will be easier to show you," She answered softly, telling me that she couldn't explain it any better than I could. With that, she turned and motioned for me to follow her. We walked past a number of other cells, mostly empty save for a few, though I couldn't even begin to guess what crimes had landed them here. Two guards stood at the exit and with one stern look from the warrior, they unlocked and opened the door for us, flicking me spiteful looks that had me flinching away.

Cassandra walked freely out into the light, getting a little ahead of me as my eyes adjusted to the sunlight. I blinked away from it, my eyes watering momentarily. And there was so much _noise._ It took me a moment to adjust to the cacophony of sounds; voices shouting in the distance; weapons clanging against armour; the rolling thunder booming from the sky. But when I looked up to see the storm, I saw something even more overwhelming, taking my breath away in its unreality.

"We call it the _Breach._ A massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour," Cassandra explained briefly as I tried to find words for the situation.

" _Fenedhis!_ " I said under my breath as Cassandra turned back to see my reaction before continuing on. A massive hole had been punched into the sky, emitting an unearthly green light. A spire of green fell from its centre like a tornado, whipping the clouds around it. But even more unbelievable was the _mountain_ casually floating beneath it, gently spinning with the wind.

"It is not the only such rift, just the largest. The explosion at the conclave was the catalyst for more of these rifts," Cassandra added before I could swear again. I felt like I couldn't breathe for a moment, rational thought leaving me for a second as I fell to my knees, shaking my head violently.

"How...h-how can an explosion do... _that?!_ " It seemed impossible. I had seen explosions before. _Fenedhis, I_ was a mage, I had caused more than a few explosions. But nothing like that.

"This one did," Her tone accusatory again, frowning down at me.

"If we do not act, the Breach may grow until the whole of the world is swallowed up," Cassandra foretold grimly, "One piece at a time," she added in a mutter.

The wind whipped up ominously and a streak of green lightning stretched across the sky as a boulder no doubt the size of a building was sucked through the Breach. I felt the following crack of thunder in my bones as the odd mark on my hand pulsed with it and I felt it being pulled in the general direction of the hole in the sky. It flared and crackled with the same green light as the Breach, sending shooting pains up my arm again and I cried out, instinctively grinding my palm into the frozen ground. I grunted with the effort to lift it back to my chest, and I cradled it like a broken arm as Cassandra knelt before me.

"Each time the Breach expands, you mark spreads...and it is killing you," The Nevarran added just to remind of my position. _I could have guessed that from the agonising pain but thanks,_ I thought sarcastically.

"I've been told it may the key to stopping this... _madness_ , but there isn't much time," She urged and waited expectantly for an answer. Did I really have a choice in this? A resounding _no_ was my only answer. I was her prisoner, she could easily march me up the side of a mountain, sword at my back until I delayed the untimely apocalypse and then have me killed.

"If there's a possibility of this working, then I'll do it," I told her resolutely, hating the slight quiver to my voice and taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. She nodded to me once, though she seemed surprised at my answer and helped me to my feet again, this time a little gentler.

Hand between my shoulder blades, she pushed me forward through the little collection of tents and ramshackle buildings, people coming from seemingly all directions to watch me pass, most of them sneering at me, the hatred in their eyes burning into me.

"The people have decided your guilt. They _need_ it," Cassandra stated plainly. They needed someone to blame. Of course it had to be me, the elf. I tried not to flinch as I was walked past the growing crowd of humans. Some were wounded from fighting, though I could hardly guess what, while others attending to the fallen. Some merely sneered at me or spat in my direction, the words 'damn knife ear' being shouted as I passed.

"The people mourn the death of our _most holy_ ; Divine Justinia, head of the chantry," Cassandra continued on, a note in her voice causing me to snatch a glance at her face whilst trying not to be tripped up by the ill fitted boots I wore. Her words were clipped short by emotion and I could see her lips twitch slightly with the contained feelings.

"The conclave was hers. It was a chance for _peace_ between Mages and Templars," the warrior added as if I didn't know what the purpose of the conclave had been. I had been sent there by my clan for a reason. If only I could remember what that reason was.

" _She_ brought their leaders together, but now they are dead," Her voice wavered at the very end.

"We lash out like the sky," Cassandra stopped herself as we reached a gate and passed through, another human walking past with thick furs and leather, looking down at me and scoffing verbally. "But we must think beyond ourselves, as _she_ did," she added, more to herself than to me.

She stopped me then, and taking a look around at the other warriors around us, pulled out a knife and stepped to face me. My heart jumped at the flash of steel and I quickly tried to assess the amount of mana in my body.

"Until the Breach is sealed..." She stated calmed before slashing the rope binding my hands.

"There will be a trial. I can promise no more," I was told softly and I guess she didn't want to attract the attention of the other humans loitering around looking at battle plans.

"Come...it is not far," She commanded gently and I rubbed my wrists when seeing the scabs that had formed beneath the shackles had been reopened by the rope. She jogged ahead of me toward another gate, calling for it to be opened. I kept pace as best as I could as we followed a path into the valley, but the loose fitting shem'len armour was more of a hindrance than an asset.

"Your mark needs to be tested on something smaller than the Breach itself," Cassandra told me, calling out over her shoulder. I nodded to myself as I followed her up the path and toward the Breach.

I watched as another boulder was sucked into the Breach and a fierce rumble of thunder washed over the valley, the mark sparking again and I fell under the intensity of it. Cassandra stopped and ran back toward me, helping me back onto my feet.

"The pulses are coming faster now," She informed me before continuing onward, and I shook my head slightly. Was that supposed to make me feel better about this?

I ran to catch up to her as she waited to cross another stone bridge further into the valley. As we crossed a glowing green boulder crashed into the bridge, shattering the stones with ease and we fell down to the frozen rivulet below, my ears ringing yet again. As we both regained our footing a smaller collection of rocks hurtled toward us from the sky, crashing into the thankfully thick, ice. I could only assume it was charged with fade energy as a couple of lesser Shades sprouted up from the craters.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra ordered me, adjusting her shield and unsheathing her sword. I had fully intended to obey, until a third Shade appeared barely a foot in front of me. I thought of calling out to her, but she was busy with the first two demons. I stepped carefully backwards to the rubble of the bridge and spied a collection of worn weapons.

"Please let there be a staff," I muttered as I rummaged through them, noting uncomfortably how I had my back turned to an approaching demon.

" _Creators_ , thank you!" I breathed, pulling the staff free from under a broken crate. Turning on my heel toward the demon and letting fly a barrage of icicles, I made quick work of the demon. After helping Cassandra defeat her second demon I took a breath, letting my mana regain itself.

"It's over," I breathed with relief, turning to look at my captor only to see her walking toward me with her sword raised.

"Drop your weapon! _Now!_ " She ordered and I braced myself for a friendly fight.

"I'm a mage, I don't _need_ a staff," I retorted, feeling this uneasy alliance beginning to crumble already.

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"Yes! No? Maybe..." Was it? "I haven't tried to use magic on you yet," I added, seeing her confused look.

She sighed and slid her sword back into its sheath.

"You're right. You don't _need_ a staff...but you should have one," She conceded gently and I lowered my weapon, acknowledging I was no longer in danger. At least from her.

"I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to go defenceless, especially with all these demons roaming the valley," She admitted before taking an assessing look over me.

"You're hurt," Cassandra summarised, turning to pull out a small glass flask and handing to me. "Drink it, Maker knows how many demons we will face." I nodded and took a sip from the flask, tasting the syrupy red liquid slid down my throat and begin to numb the cut I had earned with fighting the demon.

"Where are all the soldiers?" I asked Cassandra as we moved on, wondering where the ringing metal on metal was coming from.

"Either at the forward camp or fighting to keep demons from reaching it," She explained, continuing to run along the frozen river.

We faced at least a dozen more demons and wraiths, dispatching them quickly between just the two of us and I admired Cassandra's determination to try to keep me out of harm's way, leaving me to attack from a range. I noted absently as we proceeded to this _forward camp_ she kept mentioning, the large eye motif on her breastplate and smaller ones on her shoulder guards. From what I knew of shem'len symbols, which was admittedly not as much as I should know, it was important.

"We're getting close to a rift. You can hear the others fighting," Cassandra called out over her shoulder as we scaled a set of stairs, partially covered in snow.

"Others?" I replied, slightly breathless with the exertion of climbing and using my stores of mana.

"You'll see soon enough," She answered, checking the body of a fallen soldier, the 18th we had seen if my count of correct. We approached the remnants of another broken bridge and looked down on these _others_ Cassandra had mentioned. They and two soldiers were fighting half a dozen demons that had no doubt materialised from the fade rift, struggling to keep them at bay. I could barely make them out in the commotion other than one was bald and the other a dwarf.

"We must help them!" Cassandra exclaimed, realising that these friends would not be able to defeat the demons on their own and jumped down into the fray. I sighed and jumped in after her and with the two of us bolstering them, we were able to defeat the demons in good time.

"Quickly! Before more come through!" The bald one, an elf it turns out, grabs my left wrist and thrusts it toward the still open rift. The mark flared to life, though this time without the shooting pains, instead it felt as though I was being pulled into the centre of the rift. With the help of the male elf, who was shockingly taller than myself, I resisted the pull of the fade, a glowing green cord of magic seeming to stitch the tear back up. With the final stitch, the rift disappeared, leaving an explosion of green and black powder and the elf dropped my hand.

"What did you do?" I asked, trying to understand this odd new magic, rubbing the scabs on my wrist again. Thankfully, they had stayed intact and hadn't stained this stranger's own hand.

" _I_ did nothing. The credit is yours." He was smirking, studying me with a tilted head, the winter sun or light from the Breach, I could no longer tell, shining off his scalp.

"Telharthan! How did I..." I studied the mark for a moment, gingerly touching the green slash across my palm.

"Whatever magic open the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand. I was the one who theorised that the mark might be able to seal the rifts that opened in the Breach's wake," He explained gently, smiling all the while, almost smugly.

"And it seems I was correct," He added and I found I liked the sound of his voice. He spoke gently and had a certain flow to his words that felt like silk over the skin.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation," The elf said after sharing a look with Cassandra.

"Good to know!" A new voice chimed in, and I turned to see the dwarf approaching with a slight swagger in his step and the buttons of his shirt open, leaving his chest exposed to the cold. I didn't know much about dwarves, but I assumed they wouldn't be so acclimatised to the cold to have their chest bare in the snow, no matter how much chest hair they have.

"And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," The dwarf said cheerfully and I quirked a brow at his optimism.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked instinctively and he laughed heartily.

"Not really. The adrenalin keeps me warm, ya know?" He answered with a grin and Cassandra scoffed audibly beside me.

"Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tagalong," The dwarf introduced himself, giving Cassandra a wink and I frowned, confused.

"Are you with the Chantry or..." Did dwarves believe in the Maker? Were there dwarf priests?

The tall elf chuckled softly and I found myself smiling slightly, though I didn't understand exactly what was funny about my question.

"Surely that wasn't a serious question?" He retorted with a smile, shaking his head.

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine, Varric. _Not_ to flaunt your _chest hair_ ," Cassandra admonished the dwarf with a hint of disgust in her voice. " _Clearly_ , your presence is no longer required," She added, hinting to the outcome of the conclave. But what story was she referring to? Did these two have a history?

"It's...uh, nice to meet you, Varric," I said forcing a smile, unsure of this odd relationship between my captor and the dwarf.

"You _may_ reconsider that stance, in time," The elf said before Varric could respond.

"Aww, I'm sure we'll become _great_ friends in the valley, Chuckles," Varric replied quickly and the elf quirked a brow, clearly trying to hide a smile. He pulled me slightly aside from Cassandra and Varric, who had begun to bicker over the state of the valley and how in control her forces were.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live," The elf informed me in his smooth voice.

"He means 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'" Varric interjected jokingly, though I could find no joke in his words.

"Pleased, huh?" I muttered, hiding my face from the elf's view.

"Ma serannas, hahren," I replied honestly and though he seemed slightly taken aback with my use of elvhen, he smiled and nodded in affirmation.

"Sathem lasa halani, da'len," The elvhen words fell elegantly from his lips and I felt a shiver crawl its way up my spine in an odd pleasure.

"Though, you may want to hold your thanks until after we close the Breach, provided you aren't killed in the process," Solas added sounding almost regretful.

"Cassandra, you should know; the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen," He addressed the warrior, who turned from arguing with Varric to listen. "Your prisoner is a mage, yes, but I find it difficult to imagine _any_ mage having such power." His tone was informative, as though he was well-versed in such subjects. I made a mental note to question him later. If we all survived.

"Understood," She answered curtly with a nod and motioned for us to move on to this forward camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Fenedhis - Literally Wolf Cock, though commonly often used as Fuck;  
> Shem'len - Dalish term for humans;  
> Telharthan - No Understanding; I don't Understand  
> Ma serannas - My thanks/Thank you;  
> Hahren - Elder/Teacher;  
> Sathem lasa halani - Pleased to give assisstance/Pleased to help;  
> Da'len - Child/Young one


	2. The Forward Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Magnusismyrock](http://magnusismyrock.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading though this to make it actually makes sense!

We descended deeper into the valley via a set of narrow frozen over steps, making us move even slower so as not to slip on the ice and go tumbling into the danger that lay at the bottom. A danger which turned out to be another collection of demons which we dispatched quickly enough. I took another sip from the glass flask to numb another gash when I spied a couple of sprigs of elfroot near a burnt out cabin on the edge of the frozen river. I quickly picked the leaves off the plant and handed them to my companions.

“I have a feeling we’ll need them,” I said softly and each one accepted two leaves before we moved on, up another set of snow covered stairs on the other side of the river.

As we ascended slowly, careful not to slip, I noticed I stayed closer to Solas than Varric or Cassandra. He wore no _vallaslin_ so I guessed he was from an alienage, but his accent was like no other city elf’s I had met. His clothes were also not like any I had seen on a city elf, though I would guess he was just being practical in the wintery condition. 

“So you are Dalish, but clearly away from your clan. Did they send you to the conclave?” Solas’s voice cuts through the blustering wind and startles me. 

_‘Yes,’_ I thought to myself sadly and steps faltering for a second, but instead frowned, seeing more demons ahead. 

“What do you know of the Dalish?” I asked honestly, though it came out more accusingly than I intended. From my limited encounters with city elves, it seemed none of them had a shining picture of our culture, instead focusing on rumours of dancing naked under the moon and blood orgies. 

“I have wandered many roads in my time, thus crossed paths with your people more than once,” He replied softly, though I could detect a slight hint of annoyance colouring his smooth voice. 

“Then you know them well enough to be cautious,” I mumbled sternly. This was not the time for this kind of conversation, as we approached another group of demons. 

“Well enough to be suspicious,” Solas responded, the annoyance in his voice clear now and I was surprised that he had heard me at all over the odd screeching of a wraith. What could have possibly happened to colour his view of us so? 

“Can't you elves just play nice for once?” Varric interjected with a nervous laugh. I smiled awkwardly at him in apology and gave Solas a shrug. 

The mark on my hand flared again and I grunted with the strength of it, looking to Cassandra pleadingly as we continued. 

“I know it is difficult, but we must keep moving,” She told me determinedly before adding with a softer tone “We haven’t much further to go.” I nodded once, still feeling the fade magic pulsing up my arm. 

“We must hurry, before the mark consumes her,” Solas agreed with Cassandra with such an urgency that made me look down at the mark to find that thin, spider web tendrils of green lacing up my arm like lightning, and I widened my eyes and I looked over to Solas worriedly. 

“My magic cannot stop the mark from growing further,” He told me softly, brows furrowed in concern. 

We climbed yet more stairs and fought yet more demons and I wondered if we would ever reach the source of them all when Varric asked if I thought I was innocent. 

“I don’t remember what happened” I replied, delivering the final blow of ice to a shade and watching it shatter into a shower of splintered ice. 

“I’ve heard that one before. Should’ve told a story,” The dwarf joked and I looked at him, puzzled. 

“You know, fake it!” He clarified and I heard Cassandra scoff again. 

“That is what _you_ would have done,” She argued and I got the distinct feeling that that is exactly what he would’ve done were he in my position. 

“It’s more believable, and less proof to result in premature execution,” He countered seriously, though his tone was still humorous. 

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” I offered to counter and he gave me a sarcastic sidelong glance. 

“For now…” He replied ominously and I shook my head, knowing well enough how true that was. 

More demons and more snow covered stairs until we happened upon two burning wagons with fallen victims no doubt attempting to flee from the demons, though their bodies were too charred to make out if they were civilians or soldiers. 

“I hope Leliana made it through all of this,” Cassandra said, worried. 

“She’s resourceful, Seeker,” Varric reassured her easily. Seeker? I had not heard the term before. I wondered if it was related to the Templars in any way. Another thing to ask about later. 

“We’ll see for ourselves at the forward camp. Come, we are almost there,” Solas added, holding a hand out toward me and helping me up the final step and onto the landing. I smiled thankfully and moved past him to allow him to help the others up. I heard a strange tearing sound and before our eyes another rift opened up, to the dismay of a group of soldiers guarding the gate. 

We fought them off quickly and this time I was able to close the rift without assistance. 

“Well done,” Solas commended me as we passed through the gate and onto yet another bridge. 

“Ma serannas,” I breathed in a sigh of relief, spying a case of healing potions and ran to replace the now empty flask Cassandra had given me with a fresh one. Afterward, as I followed Cassandra toward Leliana arguing with someone standing behind a desk, wearing some sort of priest robes. I would admit that I didn’t know enough about the Chantry or those they worshipped to be sure. 

“Ah, you made it,” Leliana greeted Cassandra with a sigh of relief before turning back to the clearly disgruntled man in robes. “Chancellor Roderick, this is -”

“ _I_ know who she is!” The man interrupted and my brows rose in shock. He turned to Cassandra and pointed vehemently in my direction. 

“As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby _order_ you to take 

this… _criminal_ to Val Royeaux for execution!” He commanded heatedly to Cassandra, jabbing his short, bony finger into my face.

“ _’Order me’_? You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat! You cannot command me,” Cassandra retorted, stepping up into the man’s space with clear disdain. 

“And you are a thug, but a thug that supposedly serves the Chantry!” He answered, maintain his stance, though his words grew ever heated. 

“ _We_ serve the Most Holy Chancellor,” Leliana interjected their bickering, sounding exasperated with fighting over the matter with the chancellor. “As you well know,” She added, this time directed at Cassandra. 

“Justinia is _dead!_ We must elect her replacement, and obey _her_ orders on the matter,” Chancellor Roderick countered, as if it would void the whole argument and leave him in the right. 

“First of all; I’m right here! And I was promised a trial, no matter how this turns out,” I insisted, interrupting the Chancellor and making myself known. Cassandra smirked and nodded, amused with my handling of the priest. 

“Secondly, isn’t the Breach the more pressing issue?” I asked the Chancellor, perturbed over the idea that the election of a new Divine was more important than saving literally the _whole world_. And I had an uneasy feeling that electing a new Divine could be a lengthy process. 

“The trial is a formality, nothing more,” The Chancellor protested, seeming to be happy to continue arguing over things that had no real bearing over the current predicament. 

“And _you_ brought this upon us all in the first place!” He shouted angrily, stabbing his finger accusingly into my chest, pushing me slightly backward. 

“Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless,” He said beseechingly to Cassandra, seeming to try a different tactic. 

“We can stop this before it is too late,” She answered him, moving him back away from me. 

“How? You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers,” He sounded defeated and I rolled my eyes at his dramatism. 

“We have _her_. She has already proved that the mark can close rifts,” Cassandra offered pointing to me. 

“And hopefully the Breach itself,” Solas added, piping up for the first time through this exchange. 

“We _must_ get to the Temple! Continuing through the valley is the fastest way,” Cassandra declared, trying to rally our spirits. 

“But not the safest. Our soldiers _could_ act as a distraction while we go through the mountains, avoiding countless demons along the way,” Leliana offered sincerely and I turned to look at the mountain she was suggesting. Tall, but easy to climb, with plenty of outcroppings. 

“We lost an entire squad of scouts on that path. It’s too risky, Leliana,” Cassandra replied, doubtful. 

“ _Listen to me!_ Abandon this now, before more lives are lost needlessly,” Chancellor Roderick interrupted again, wanting to have a final say in the matter. The Breach let out a thundering crack of lighting and the mark flared to life again, making my hand quiver. Cassandra sighed and turned to me. 

“What do you think?” She asked me and I quirked a brow. 

“You’re asking me? The prisoner?” I questioned, totally confused at this turn of events. 

“You have the mark,” Solas affirmed. 

“And you are the one we must keep alive. And since we cannot decide on our own…” No they couldn’t, that much was clear. 

“We’ll take the mountain path,” I decided quickly. “I’m a fast climber and I can take out what demons we find up there,” I explained, seeing Cassandra’s disapproval. 

“Leliana, rally everyone left in the valley. _Everyone_ ,” Cassandra murmured to her friend before leading us on. 

“Be it on your head the consequences, Seeker,” Chancellor Roderick muttered as we passed him, already returning to studying some sort of battle map. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Vallaslin - Blood writing. Used by the Dalish to denote which clan one comes from and which god the clan or the person specifically worships;  
> Ma serannas - My thanks/Thank you.


	3. Closing the Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Magnusismyrock](http://magnusismyrock.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading though this to make it actually makes sense!

The climb up the steep mountain path was easy, at least for me, despite the slippery, iced over steps and blustering wind. I frequently had to go back and help Varric and Cassandra to make sure they didn’t fall off the side of the cliff. Solas seemed to be the only one not flailing in the snow, surefooted and easily keeping pace with me the entire way. Even some of my clan sometimes struggled in the snow, so I was impressed, and allowed myself to show it. 

We eventually made it to a wooden platform built into the mountain side, revealing the beginning of a path into the depths of the mountain. Cassandra had explained to me along the way, albeit breathlessly, that this had once been a mine, though unused for many years now, and has become little more than an alternative route to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

“And your missing soldiers are in there somewhere?” Varric asked, yelling to be heard over the wind. 

“Along with whatever has detained them,” Solas added, though his voice seemed to cut through easier than Varric’s. 

“We shall see soon enough,” Cassandra said with finality as we began to climb up the first ladder. We climbed one at a time, with myself in front to scout out any danger and to keep it from the others while in their vulnerable position. 

Solas was the last to ascend and once all had their feet firmly planted on the wooden planks, I started climbing up the second ladder. We repeated the formula once more as we came upon a third ladder, thankfully shorter than the other two as I started to feel the cold stiffening my muscles through the thin, barely fitting mercenary armour I was wearing. 

“I can see the entrance,” I called down to them as they climbed up to join me. Cassandra nodded as she took the last rung and I hauled her up before moving to assist Varric. 

“This was used as a secret passage away from the Temple, meant for the Divine and her associates to retreat,” Cassandra explained and I turned to her with eyes wide before motioning to help Solas, who waved me away easily as he stepped up onto the platform. 

We headed toward the entrance of the neglected passageway to find a group of demons, though the two wraiths were easy to dispatch, we had to work as a team on the greater Shade. 

“Are these the abandoned supplies of the scouts, or just stashed for an emergency?” I asked Cassandra, who seemed to know the most about the passage, after spotting a number of sacks and pots. After investigating one pot, I found them to have half rotten food wrapped up in a delicate, if not stained, swath of cotton. 

“The scouts have only been missing for a day,” She answered, looking over my shoulder and letting out a disgusted grunt and we both backed away, hands covering our noses. 

“These must have belonged to the miners, or someone else using the passage that we did not know of,” She mused, turning a sharp eye to me. I shook my head, trying to look as innocent as possible and she moved on, with the three of us in tow. We moved quickly through the tunnel, though I had to stop once to admire the view down into the mines and the glowing pillars of stone rising up out of the darkness. 

“I wonder if dwarves live down there,” I murmured in awe and heard Varric chuckle behind me. 

“You see a hole and you think dwarves live down there? Do you even know about the Deep Roads? Ever heard of _Orzammar_?” He quizzed and I got the distinct feeling I had insulted him. 

“Not really, sorry,” I answered the slightly disgruntled dwarf as we moved on. “I mean no offence, Varric.” 

“It’s fine, no offence taken,” He chuckled lightly in response, shaking his head and waving off my apology. I breathed through my nose, feeling more than a little guilty as we continued on through the tunnel. As we moved up a set of stone stairs, we found a group of four demons waiting for us, and I assumed they had come from the original explosion of the Conclave itself, as no Fade rift was visible anywhere in the area. We made quick work of the demons, and with a sigh of relief, I moved to lead the group onward. 

“The exit must be up ahead,” I called over my shoulder, feeling a crisp breeze from the top of another set of stairs. 

“We must move quickly then,” Cassandra urged and we all ran toward the wintery white light to find three soldiers lay slain in the snow, their bodies blue and their blood brown and frozen to the snow and stairs. I was glad for the snow covering certain parts of the bodies, as I could see that one torso was unnaturally stretched from the legs and I quickly averted my eyes, trying not to let my revulsion show. 

“Well, I suppose these are your missing scouts, Seeker,” Varric muttering with a heavy, regretful sigh. 

“But this cannot be all of them…” Cassandra trailed off and I wondered slightly if the wind had stolen the words before I could hear them. 

“Maybe they could be holed up ahead?” Varric suggested with a soft, hopeful voice. 

“Perhaps,” Cassandra conceded. 

“Our priority is the Breach,” Solas declared, trying to steer us back on track. “Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe,” He finished softly, flicking his gaze to me for a moment. 

If the wind had stolen Cassandra’s words before, than I supposed they had traded them for the light sound of fighting I could hear drifting up from below. 

“I can hear fighting ahead!” I exclaimed and rushed down the steps, barely minding my steps on the ice covered stone and towards the faint sounds. I could see a green glow at the end of the path, partially obscured by a couple of tall, snow covered pine trees and I assumed that was where the fighting sounds were coming from. As I neared, I could make out a small crew of soldiers fighting off a group of four demons and I quickly jumped into the fray, helping defeat one wraith before moving on to freeze a lesser Shade, allowing another soldier to stab it, effectively shattering it into small shards of ice. 

“Lady Cassandra!” One of the soldiers, whom I realised were what was left of the missing scout party, exclaimed gratefully when Cassandra came into their view with Varric and Solas in tow. 

“Lieutenant! You’re alive!” Cassandra in turn sounded more amazed at her soldiers fighting ability than thankful, yet I felt a breath of relief leave me that I didn't know I was holding. 

“Just barely!” The lieutenant answered as another two demons, terrifying tree like lesser Terrors this time, spawned from the rift. With the soldiers adding to our ranks, we destroyed them quickly and I closed the Fade rift, stitching time and space back into place with the unknown magic. 

“Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this,” Solas said, relief clear in his voice and I smiled at him softly recognising a hint of pride in his voice. 

“That’s why I’m leaving the big one to her,” Varric remarked humorously and Solas chuckled lightly in response. Cassandra helped the Lieutenant to her feet and turned her commander voice on, though it was the Lieutenant who spoke first. 

“Thank the Maker you found us, Lady Cassandra. I don’t think we could have held out much longer,” The Lieutenant declared breathlessly and held her abdomen where I could see her armour had been torn open. 

“Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant,” Cassandra replied, gesturing to me and I saw the scouts’ eyes widen. “She insisted we come this way,” Cassandra’s voice wasn’t exactly pleased, but it wasn’t as disapproving as when I had first suggested it. 

“The _prisoner?_ Then you…”

“It was worth saving you, if we could.” A lie. I had chosen the mountain path for my own skill in climbing and because I thought there would be less demons then if we had simply charged with the rest of the army, giving no guarantee that I would stay alive in the mass of demons. Not that I regretted saving them, but it had not been my first priority. But when I looked over to Solas and Cassandra, they seemed pleased with my answer. 

“Then you have my sincere gratitude,” The Lieutenant replied with a voice of determination and finality, clasping her fist and placing it over her breast plate in a show of gratitude. Being an action I had not seen before, I merely mimicked her as best I could. 

“The way into the valley behind us is clear for the moment. Go, while you still can,” Cassandra told them gently before adding “And find yourself a healer, you have done well.” I was surprised at her praise but didn’t mention it. The Lieutenant nodded stiffly and turned to what was left of her troops and urged them to get moving. 

Solas turned to Cassandra and myself, although inadvertently, and clasped his staff tightly with both hands. 

“The path ahead appears to be clear of demons as well,” He stated calmly and I resisted the urge to quirk a brow. 

“Then let us hurry, before that changes,” Cassandra replied as she sheathed her sword. We ran down the hill as fast as the ice coated steps would allow. Cassandra stated that the ladders ahead were the next part of our path to the Temple, and I descended, taking two rungs at a time. When I reached the bottom, I waited anxiously for the others, almost hopping from one foot to the other. 

Once all four of us had our feet firmly planted on the ground, we set off down the hill at a steady pace. I noticed that wooden boards had been set into the frozen earth. 

“So…holes in the Fade don’t just _accidentally_ happen right?” Varric mused. 

“If enough magic is brought to bear in a place, it _is_ possible,” Solas explained. 

“But there are _easier_ ways to make things explode,” Varric retorted, as if all this was just a silly mistake. Though whose mistake I could not be sure. 

“That is true,” Solas answered, amusement colouring his voice slightly. 

“We will consider _how_ this happened once the immediate danger is passed,” Cassandra interjected, stopping Varric from responding as we continued down a long path of stone stair cases. I agreed with Cassandra, albeit silently, knowing that explosions such as this didn't happen every day. But _why_ it had happened was the more pressing issue on my mind. I was not vain enough to think it had merely been directed at myself and my brother. 

I paused at the top of the final set of stairs, staring in awe at the broken stone pillars rising up in an unearthly fashion from the ground. They emitted the same strange green light as the Breach and the mark on my hand. I wondered silently if the explosion had created them out of the rubble of the Temple, or if they had merely materialised from the sheer strength of the magic that had caused the explosion. They all shone with an eerie smoothness to them and when I looked down I could see the ground had the same odd smoothness, as if it had all been polished by water. 

The Breach itself let out an odd crackling sound, not quite like lightning, but with a hissing quality to it, like the whistle of wind through tree branches. 

Small patches of flames still licked the ground and walls, though I could see no source to keep them burning. 

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes…” Solas breathed, bewildered by the sight before him. 

“What’s left of it,” Varric answered the unspoken question. I could not pull my eyes away and felt my breathing stop for a moment from the sheer impossibility of it all. 

“We cannot falter now,” Solas gently urged me down the steps by placing a gentle hand on my lower back and I was finally able to move my feet again. 

“I…I just…” I stuttered, slowly pulling my eyes away to meet his and the corner of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. 

“I’m sorry, I just can't…this is all so… _impossible_ ,” I breathed, shaking my head. 

“Ir abelas, da’lan” Solas whispered to me, and I doubted any of the others heard the regret in his voice. He doubted my survival. As I stared up again at the massive hole in the sky with dread, I also doubted that I would survive what was to come. 

“Tel abelas. Min ea’tel or mar tual,” I replied softly and he looked away, the pain barely masked. 

“That is where you fell out of the Fade and our soldiers found you,” Cassandra breathed, distracting me from Solas as I turned to listen to her. 

“They say there was a woman in the rift behind you. No one knows who it was,” She finished and I knew it had been the same female shaped figure that I had been running towards. Whoever or whatever it had been, I was certain that it had saved me from whatever had been chasing me. 

We descended down into the rubble, or what was left of it. I supposed that whoever had first found me must have piled the debris, judging by the giant mounds of half broken stone bricks, whereas the floor was still mostly intact. As I looked around at the aftermath of the explosion, I counted as many as fifty dead bodies, though some were no longer in one piece. 

I tried not to let it show, but my heart rate jumped up as I began to scan the bodies for any signs of Haleir, but finding none, an intense feeling of despair rose up in me. I choked back a sob, moving past the petrified bodies, forever locked in shocked expressions, hands partially covering faces, an arm raised to try to shield from the explosion. 

From what I remembered of the Conclave, this was not nearly all of people who had attended, and I supposed those that had not melded completely with the ground or the walls had been moved and were awaiting burial. I hoped that was the reason so few remained, though I still silently hoped Haleir had escaped. 

We walked through what was left of a corridor and I got my first proper look at the massive Fade rift responsible for the Breach in the sky. The sheer size of it made my steps falter once more. 

“The Breach _is_ a long way up,” Varric muttered, voicing my own thoughts in a sceptical tone. I heard footsteps approaching from behind and I turned to see Leliana approaching with a small band of scouts at her side and a bow slung over her shoulder. 

“You’re here! Thank the Maker,” She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and the rest of our little group turned to her. 

“Leliana, have your people take up defensive positions around the Temple,” Cassandra instructed her and with a nod, the hooded woman was walking away. Her troop of scouts followed and took up their given positions. 

“ _This_ is your chance to end this. Are you ready?” Cassandra asked me directly and I took a deep, steadying breath in before answering. 

“Not really, but I’ll do what I can,” I answered honestly, hating the slight quiver in my voice. “Please tell me I don’t have to go all the way _up there_?” I nodded to the hole in the sky and while Cassandra was shaking her head. Solas came up and placed a hand on my shoulder. 

“No, you will not be flying today,” He spoke softly, clearly trying to ease my nerves. “This rift was the first and it the key. If you can seal it, perhaps it will close the Breach,” His words were soft and suddenly I felt as though I _could_ do this. That I _wouldn’t_ die. 

“Then let’s find a way down. And be careful,” Cassandra instructed us and moved to take the lead, Varric tailing closely, myself and Solas not far behind. I spotted a set of stairs on the far side of the pit, of what was left of the great hall and pointed it out to Solas, who nodded solemnly. We follow the remnants of the corridor leading down into the hall, Leliana’s men following and taking up their places to watch over us as we handled the Breach. 

_“Now is the hour of victory. Bring forward the sacrifice,”_ A new voice, deep and male and _wrong_ in its ghostly quality demanded, halting everyone for a moment, all of us wondering where it had come from. 

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked, turning to look at me as if I held the answer, a hint of fear in her curiosity. 

“At a guess; the person who created the Breach,” Solas offered as an answer. Cassandra seemed placated with this and we moved forward. As we rounded a corner however, Varric stopped to scowl at some odd shaped stone structures growing up from the ground. They shone with a clear red and had an aura shimmered around them, sending off tiny sparks of red and yellow. Shards of the gem littered the ground and Varric kicked one into the rubble. 

“You know this stuff is _red Lyrium_ , Seeker,” He stated to Cassandra, once again using this official title she held. 

“I see it, Varric,” She replied dismissively. It was apparently not the most important thing to worry over at the moment. 

“But what’s it _doing_ here?” He asked, either not bothered over her tone or not hearing it. 

“Magic could have drawn on Lyrium beneath the Temple and corrupted it?” Once again Solas offered an answer to which Varric scoffed, rolling his shoulders and marching on. 

“It’s _evil_. Whatever you do, _don’t_ touch it,” Varric retorted, instructing me directly. Probably a good thing, as I had never heard of Lyrium being red before. 

_“Keep the sacrifice still,”_ The sinister voice rang out over the pit and I felt a chill go down my spine in fear. 

_“Someone help me!”_ A woman’s voice answered, quivering and scared and equally ethereal in its quality. 

“That was Divine Justinia’s voice!” Cassandra gasped, turning to grab me by the shoulder. “What trickery is this?!” She demanded fiercely, squeezing my shoulder uncomfortably. 

“I don’t know!” I retorted, trying to shift out of her grip. Her eyes narrowed but didn’t press further, thankfully. We reached the set of stairs and descended into the ruined church hall and moved to stand before the massive Fade rift. The odd sound it emitted was louder here and the harsh crackling sound hurt my ears, making me wince every time it sparked. 

Bones and skulls littered the ground and we all tried to avoid stepping on them, finding it equally disrespectful and disgusting. I sincerely hoped none of them belonged to Haleir or the Divine. The thought causing bile to rise in my throat and I coughed at the foul taste of it. 

“Ah!” I cried as the mark flared again, connecting momentarily to the Fade rift, causing it to stir and shift. 

_“Someone help me!”_ The Divine’s voice called out again, so much louder now and I resisted the urge to cover my ears. 

_“What’s going on here?”_ What? Was that… _my voice?_

“That was _your_ voice. Most Holy _called_ out to you, but…” Cassandra was at a loss for words. That made two of us as I had no memory of this. 

A flash of white light came from the rift and ghostly images floated out from the centre of the rift and seemed to fall into place. Divine Justinia, ethereally transparent and floating above us, was still identifiable by her features and robes. A similarly transparent shape was facing her, blacked out with glowing red eyes, floating with a less defined figure, holding the Divine high in the air to meet its eyes, red energy swirling around her. 

_“What’s going on here?”_ I entered the scene through a now missing door, clearly frightened at whatever I had found. 

_“Run while you can! Warn them!”_ The Divine shouted at the ghostly version of myself. 

_“We have an intruder,”_ The blackened figure stated almost nonchalantly, gesturing toward the ghost me. _“Slay the elf,”_ He ordered…someone, not seen in the vision. Another flash and vision disappeared, leaving me no better clue as to what had happened. 

“You _were_ there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?” Cassandra fired off one question after another, not leaving me a moment to think of an answer. 

“I don’t remember!” I near shouted in response, unable to think of anything that would make sense. Nothing _did_ make sense. This whole situation was insane. 

“Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place,” Solas murmured ominously before turning to Cassandra. 

“The rift here is not sealed, not properly. It is closed though only temporarily, as if sleeping. I believe with the mark the rift can be opened and then sealed and properly and safely. However, opening the rift will like attract attention from the other side,” Solas explained as quickly as he was able and I winced. _More demons_. And I was nearly out of poultices and healing syrup. 

“That means demons! Stand ready!” Cassandra ordered and we all moved into a semi-circle around the rift, myself in the centre. I gave each one of my new companions one last look, each giving me a reassuring nod and I sighed. 

_‘I’m sorry Haleir,’_ I thought as I lifted the mark toward the rift, awakening it and tearing open the hole in reality. All at once the rift opened up and a thick rope of green light struck the ground, a massive Pride demon materialising before us. It roared as electricity sparked from its long twisted horns and talons. 

“ _Now!_ ” Cassandra shouted, raising her sword up as a signal for the archers to let loose a round of arrows, though they only bounced off the demons thick skin and served to irritate it even more. 

I readied my staff alongside my companions and loosed a barrage of icicles as Varric and Solas aimed their own attacks. 

“It’s no use! We must strip its defences!” Cassandra called to us from behind the great beast. 

“Quickly! Disrupt the rift!” Solas ordered as he swung his staff gracefully. I shrugged not truly knowing what that meant, but approached the rift and lifted my marked hand to it again. This time however, when the green cord of magic made contact with the tear, the rift reacted with a shower of bright green sparks over the battlefield, as if the magic had _pinched_ the two pieces of the torn fade to stop the tear growing larger. For a moment the demon’s connection to the Fade was gone. 

“The demon is vulnerable! Attack it now!” Cassandra shouted out as the demon knelt, looking to be catching its breath, though I knew of no spirits or demons that breathe. We took the opportunity and all barraged the demon with our most powerful attacks before it was able to regain itself and rise up onto its feet and began swiping at those who stood too close, including myself. I leapt away, rolling head over feet away from the demon’s talons before regaining my feet and lifting my hand to disrupt the rift a second time. This time it attracted the attention of some lesser Shades, who began attacking us, making more of a hindrance than a threat. At least compared to the over-inflated ego striking the ground with lightning and swiping its talons at us. 

The third time I disrupted the rift the Pride demon staggered more heavily than it had before and I knew we were getting close to destroying it. I believe it was the combined effort between Cassandra and Solas who finally brought the beast down, shattering into tiny purple sparks that drifted back toward the rift. 

“Now! Seal it!” I heard Cassandra’s voice calling out to me, and I raced to stand beneath the rift. Probably not the best place to be under normal circumstances. But this had been anything but normal. 

Panting and exhausted, I lifted my palm toward the rift again and had to force my fatigued muscles to push the green cord out from the mark and begin stitching the Fade back into place. 

I had not realised at first that everyone’s eyes were trained directly on me, their hopes and prayers placed squarely on my shoulders. Or, in my hand as fate would have it. 

My vision was filled with a bright, sickly green as the mark flared with life, the spider web like patterns traveling up my arm and numbing my body. 

Finally the rift was closed, the stitching complete and the cord snapping back into the mark, knocking me off my feet with a shout. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears as I stared up at the great hole in the sky. The Fade magic travelled up along the unearthly tornado and into the Breach itself. I idly wondered what would happen to the gigantic boulders being held in suspension around the torrential magic before my eyes drifted closed. 

_‘Ir abelas Haleir. Ah telem ama mar’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Ir abelas, da'lan - I'm sorry, child;  
> Tel abelas. Min ea’tel or mar tual - Don’t be sorry. This isn’t of your causing;  
> Ir abelas, Haleir. Ah telem ama mar - I’m sorry, Haleir. I could not protect you.


	4. Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta for this chapter and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

I was so warm. 

Too warm. 

I wished Haleir had not insisted on so many blankets. We were used to the cold after all. I rolled away from him and stuck my feet out from under the covers to help cool me. I could barely make out the soft crackle of a fire and my clan mates moving around outside the aravel. I wondered how I could hear anything over Haleir’s _snoring_. 

“Telahna,” I murmured gruffly. 

“AH!” I jolted upright at the sound of someone’s surprised shout, falling out of the bed and smacking my head on the floor. 

“Ow,” I muttered, moving to sit up, grasping the back of my head gingerly. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!” I looked up to see that a young elf girl had dropped a small crate on the floor at the shock, shattering the glass within. Noting the small dagger on her belt and that she was visibly nervous, I lifted my hands in surrender and slowly got to my feet. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said slowly, watching her for a moment, trying to judge if she was going make a move toward me. Instead, she dropped to the floor and knelt at my feet, babbling about forgiveness and blessing. I stared at her for what seemed like minutes, trying to piece together what had was happening. 

“ _What?_ ” I answered finally and the serving girl lifted her head to glance at my face, gauging my expression. 

“You’re back in Haven, my Lady. They say you _saved_ us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand,” She explained quickly, and I assumed _she_ thought she had angered me. I looked down at my palm and sure enough the mark was still there and the small, spider-like green scars on my hand had stopped, barely extending to my fingers and around the flat of my hand. 

So not a dream then? 

“It’s all everyone has been talking about for _three days_ ,” The elf girl continued, still kneeling before me and shivering nervously. I sighed, shaking my head at the sheer absurdity of it all and bent down to place a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, startling her to look up at me with an expression bordering on fear as I motioned for her to stand. 

“So the danger is over then?” I asked and she nodded quickly, albeit stiffly. 

“The Breach _is_ still in the sky, but that’s what they say,” She answered and I nodded gravely, noting that the girl was staring at the mark with reverence, making me shuffle my feet uncomfortably. 

“I-I’m sure Lady Cassandra would want to know you’ve wakened. She said ‘at once’,” The elf girl said, quickly backing away from me and toward the door. 

“Where is Lady Cassandra?” I asked, wondering at the same time where I was. Clearly not in a cell, though what did that mean? Was I still to have a trial? Or had they conducted it already while I slept? Haleir had taught me a little of the politics of the humans and had said such things were not uncommon. 

“In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. ‘At once’ she said.” And with that the elf girl scuttled through the door, slamming it shut behind her. I shook my head gently at her, though her demeanour and general reaction to me was worrying. Why was she asking _me_ for a _blessing_? 

With a sigh, I sat back down on the bed and looked around the shem’len cabin, noting the fireplace that I had heard, the desk covered in papers, quills and an ink pot, thankfully capped, and the lute leaning against the smaller side table at the end of the bed. It felt homely enough, though it was nothing like my camp and I suddenly felt homesick for the wolf pelts of my own bedroll and the smell of halla. With a shaky sigh, I could feel the sting of tears in the corners of my eyes. 

Why was I still alive? Where was Haleir? What was this strange magic and why was it _growing_ on me? The questions pulsed through my mind, running around in circles until I finally buried my head in my hands and wept. I felt so weak and helpless, surrounded by humans and on trial for an event I had no recollection of. 

“ _Fenedhis_ , what have I gotten myself into?” I sobbed into my hands while shaking my head. “Creators help me,” I breathed heavily, trying and failing to contain my grieving. I sat there on the edge of bed, letting my tears fall heavily to the floor, sobbing quietly to myself, knowing that the humans wouldn’t care for anything I had to say. Whether I was guilty or not, I would be held accountable for what happened at the Temple. My clan would hunted and another holy march was probably upon us. 

All because of _me_. 

“Da’lan?” I heard a voice from the doorway and quickly worked to muffle my hiccupping sobs and dry my face, working myself further onto the bed and out of view of anyone from the door. I kept as silent as I could, waiting for whoever it was to leave me be, curling my legs up so I could lean my forehead against them, hiding myself further. 

“So you are awake,” The voice said and I recognised it as Solas, the city elf who had helped me seal the Breach. I could hear his steps approaching but refused to lift my head and acknowledge him, even when I felt the bed dip slightly as he sat beside me. We sat in silence for a long while, listening to the fire crackle and the wind bluster against the wood of the cabin. I shook with the effort to keep myself quite. 

“I came to check on the mark,” Solas said finally with a little sigh, “May I?” Without a word, I relinquished my marked hand to him to study and felt the warmth of his cover it slowly. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked after releasing my hand back to me which I tucked back under my knees. At his question I inhaled quickly, causing another hiccupping sob before lifting my head to look at his face. 

“Truthfully?” I asked softly, letting him hear the quiver in my voice and watching as his brows tilt slightly as he gave me a quick, curt nod. 

“I’m terrified,” I breathed, turning my head away and looking blankly ahead as another tear rolled down my cheek. He was silent for a long while, and I figured he either didn’t know how to react or didn’t want to, but eventually he slid off the bed and held out a hand toward me. 

“Cassandra is waiting in the Chantry,” He offered and I sighed, nodding my head once before uncurling myself and taking his hand to steady me as I stood on shaky legs. 

“Right, time to face my fate,” I muttered under my breath, dropping his hand and wiping my face unceremoniously on the sleeve of the loose fitting attire I had been changed into. Solas either didn’t hear me or chose not to react, instead leading me to the door. 

“Pardon, but I forgot to ask your name?” He asked softly as he reached for the door handle. I stared at him for probably a moment too long before answering. 

“It doesn’t matter,” I breathed my reply, cynicism colouring my tone. “I won't live long enough for it to matter,” I added, beginning to get an itch to be over and done with it already as I waited for Solas to open the door to the cabin. 

With a huff, I lowered my head as I took a few steps into the cold, only to stop when I looked around at the humans of Haven. Standing with their hands clasped over their hearts in a sign of respect, they lined the streets of the small town. As I looked about me it seemed to be the entire population of Haven watching me and I felt a distinct shiver of cruel anticipation run down my spine. My heart rate spiked, pounding against my chest uncomfortably as I began to shudder, sweat slickening my palms. 

Taking a deep breath to attempt to steady my growing nerves, I began walking along the path that the people of Haven lined all the way up to the Chantry doors. I forced myself to walk calmly past them, determined not to let them see my fear as I approached almost certain death. Objectively, I found it strange that I could face masses of demons and magic gone awry with hardly a second thought, but when faced with a crowd of people staring at me in near utter silence I was terrified. I supposed it was because of my nomadic Dalish lifestyle that conflicted too starkly with the current situation. 

“That’s _her_. That’s the _Herald of Andraste_. They say when she stepped out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her.” The hushed words caused me to falter, my step slightly stumbling in the gravel in my bewilderment at the statement. Herald of Andraste? Surely they realised that I was Dalish and therefore had no belief in the human deity? Why were they calling me the _Herald_ of a god I clearly _did not believe in?_

As I continued my walk of shame toward the Chantry, the people of Haven kept whispering good wishes toward me in the name of Andraste and I felt myself flinch each time at the sentiments. Was this some type of cruel trick they played on my kind? I was meant for the hanging ropes for my crime, but they were praising me? What was this shem’len madness? 

Glad to be out from under the eyes of the humans, I strode determinedly through the hall of the Chantry toward the door at the very end where I could faintly hear Cassandra’s voice arguing with that of the Chancellors. 

“Have you gone _completely mad_? She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine,” Chancellor Roderick’s voice cut through, making me halt right before I pushed open the door and I decided to wait and listen. 

“ _I_ do not believe she is guilty,” Cassandra replied to the cleric calmly and I left the corner of my lips curling upward, slightly relieved at her opinion of me. 

“The _elf_ failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky! For all we know she intended it this way!” Chancellor sounded almost desperate in his attempts at swaying Cassandra’s views. 

“I do not believe that.” Cassandra’s voice was infinitely calm against his protests. 

“ _That_ is not for you to decide. Your _duty_ is to serve the Chantry,” Chancellor Roderick practically spat the word out. 

“My _duty_ , Chancellor, is to uphold the principles the Chantry was founded upon. As is yours,” Cassandra retorted and with a sigh, I decided it was time to face the music and open the door. As soon as Chancellor Roderick laid his eyes on me, his hand was pointing accusingly in my face and issuing orders to the two soldiers standing just inside the door. 

“Disregard that and leave us,” Cassandra countered him, leaning over a large, open book with Leliana. The soldiers saluted before retreating and closing the door behind them. 

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” Roderick warned her, eyes narrowed and lips tight in disapproval. 

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat, for _all_ of us, and _I_ will not ignore it,” Cassandra replied, not taking the bait but instead choosing reason over wrath. 

“I’m sorry, I did the best I could,” I offered, their eyes on me and feeling as though I owed them an explanation, even if I had none. “It did almost kill me,” I added, more for myself than for the Chancellor, still wondering how I had survived. 

“And yet you live, convenient wouldn’t you say, Seeker?” He retorted, insinuation making his Fereldan accent thicker. 

“Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face,” Cassandra answered, Nevarran accent thick with thinly veiled anger and frustration at his non-compliance. 

Leliana spoke now, frustration colouring even her thick Orlesian accent. 

“ _Someone_ was behind the explosion at the conclave, someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they dies with the others,” Leliana said with the same accusatory tone as the Chancellor, though slightly more reserved. “Or perhaps they have allies who yet live?” The question was heavy with insinuation and the Chancellor scoffed. 

“ _I_ am a suspect?” He huffed, raising his hands in offence. 

“You, and many others,” Leliana answered quickly, her elegantly sculpted brows furrowing. 

“But _not_ the prisoner?” The Chancellor asked, clearly insulted by this information, gesturing to me absently. 

“I heard the voices in the Temple. The Divine called out to her for help.” Cassandra offered to try to change the clerics mind, though it seemed to only anger him. 

“So her survival, that _thing_ on her hand was all a coincidence?” 

“Providence! The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour!” Cassandra proclaimed, making my flinch and hold my hands up in protest. 

“Hold a moment!” I nearly shouted and all eyes landed on me causing me to pause before continuing, “I am not some holy crusader sent from the heavens! Does it not occur to you that I might not _believe_ in your Maker?” I exclaimed, confusion fuelling my outburst. Chancellor looked both shocked and appalled that it was possible that I didn’t believe in his god but my own whilst Cassandra merely shook her head gently. 

“I have not forgotten,” She spoke softly as though I was a child. “No matter what you are, or who you believe in, I cannot ignore that you were exactly what we needed when we needed it,” Cassandra explained curtly, disapproval furrowing her brows as she conveniently swept my race and beliefs under the carpet. I narrowed my eyes slightly before schooling my expression. 

“The Breach yet remains, and your mark is our _only hope_ in closing it,” Leliana piped up as Cassandra turned away from us to retrieve something from a bookcase behind her. 

“That is _not_ for you to decide!” Roderick all but shouted, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. 

Suddenly, Cassandra slams a large, leather and metal bound book onto the table, starling both Roderick and myself into silence. 

“Do you know what this is, Chancellor?” Cassandra demands, pointing a gloved hand to the tome. “A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act,” Cassandra informs him without giving him a chance to answer. “As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn!” She proclaimed, shocking the Chancellor into silence. 

She stalks forward into the cleric’s space, backing him up against the wall, shoving her finger into his chest. 

“We _will_ close the Breach, we _will_ find those responsible, and we _will_ restore order, with or without _your_ approval!” Appalled at her proclamation, Chancellor Roderick shook his head before storming off vehemently. I felt myself tense as he walked past me and out of the chamber. 

“The Divine’s directive; rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos,” Leliana spoke softly, reverently touching the heavy tome as though it would fall the dust at the touch. She drew her hand back and looked first as Cassandra before myself and continued. “We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support,” She admitted almost regretfully, looking back to Cassandra for an answer. 

“We have no choice. We must act, and now,” Cassandra offered, before turning to look at me expectantly. “With you at our side.” 

I was startled at this. What did I have to help lead an _entire_ organisation, let alone a human one? 

“What exactly _is_ the Inquisition?” I asked them, confused beyond belief and wanting to stall my acceptance. Leliana kindly explained that it had preceded the Chantry. That factions had joined together restore order and what was left had formed the Templar Order.” 

“But aren’t you still part of the Chantry?” I asked honestly and Cassandra snorted. 

“Is that all you see?” She asked in response, seemingly slightly offended. 

“The Chantry will take time to elect a new Divine, and _then_ it will wait for her direction,” Leliana explained for me. 

“But Thedas _cannot_ wait. So many Grand clerics died at the conclave…no, we are on our own, perhaps forever,” Cassandra interjected, though her tone was grim, causing Leliana in turn to nod her head in grief acceptance. 

“This sounds like you’re trying to start a holy war,” I protested, feeling an uncomfortable wave of foreboding wash over me, thinking to what history I knew of the Exalted March of Dirtha'var'en. 

“We are already at war and you are already involved. Its mark is upon you,” Cassandra maintained, pointing idly at my left hand. “As to whether this war is holy, that depends on what we discover,” Cassandra added and I winced inwardly, knowing that this endeavour would have me labelled as a follower of Andraste to my people. I supposed I already was, the title of Herald being set squarely on my shoulders. 

“And what if I refuse?” I asked honestly, already half knowing the answer. 

“You may go if you wish,” Leliana answered though her voice seemed lighter, telling me there was to it than that. 

“However, while some believe you chosen, many still insist on your guilt. The Inquisition can only protect you if you are with us,” Cassandra added and I now understood Leliana’s tone. I was stuck here until all this was over or until I died. 

“We can also help _you_ ,” Leliana noted, though what she was offering was lost on me. From what I knew, they had nothing I wanted, it was _them_ who needed _me_. 

“It will not be easy if you stay, but you cannot pretend that this has not changed you,” Cassandra concluded and I nodded solemnly. I was changed by this, but probably not to extend they understood. My brother was missing, I had almost died and I was marked with a strange magic that allowed me to seal the tears in the veil. 

“I admit, when I awoke, this was not what I had pictured,” I mumbled, causing Leliana and Cassandra to share a slightly amused look between them before answering. 

“Neither did we,” Leliana admitted, shrugging as Cassandra shook her head in amusement. 

“Help us fix this before it is too late,” Cassandra pleaded, holding her gauntleted hand out to me and waiting for me to make a decision. Not that I had one. If I refused I would be hunted across Thedas for the murder of the Divine, not to mention the Breach would eventually expand and swallow us all. There was no escaping it. 

I sighed as I stared at her outstretched hand, wondering just _how_ I had gotten myself into this mess before tentatively taking her hand. Pleased with my decision, she shook my hand vigorously, before looking toward Leliana, a hopeful smile curving her lips. 

I dropped her hand and felt my legs weaken suddenly. I stumbled, trying to catch my balance, putting a hand to my forehead and feeling a sheen of sweat, I looked to Cassandra with a worried frown. 

“I’m sorry…I don’t seem to be well…” I mumbled, bracing myself against the large table, my vision beginning to tilt uneasily. 

“The cabin you awoke in is yours. Go, rest, and I’ll send the alchemist to attend you,” Cassandra told me, looking down at me with a pity in her dark eyes that had me scowling even as I nodded and straightened myself to exit the Chantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Aravel – Dalish caravan;  
> Telahna – Hush/Be quiet;  
> Shem’len – Dalish word for Human. Means Quick Blood. Usually used as an insult;  
> Fenedhis – Wolf Cock. Used here as ‘Fuck’;  
> Da’lan – Child/Young One/Little One;  
> Dirtha'var'en – Elvhen for the Exalted Plains.


	5. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

I managed to make it back to the cabin, glad that the people of Haven no longer lined the streets to watch me shamble back to privacy. The warmth of the fire inside was pleasant, but did nothing to help my fever. I still wore the ill-fitting mercenary garb that I had sealed the Breach in, covered in sweat and gore, and I grimaced, wondering why no one had bothered to change me out of them. With an annoyed huff, I looked around the two room cabin for a bucket, only finding a cast iron cauldron. I hefted it outside and scooped as much snow as I could using my hands into the oversized pot before my fingers turned numb. 

I nearly stumbled in the disturbed snow as I hauled it back into the cabin’s heat, barely making it inside before I tripped over myself. Wiping my brow, I knew that the work would not aid in getting rid of the fever, but I longed to bathe enough that I would endure it. Pulling the pot over the wooden floor, I dragged it to sit in front of the fireplace so the snow would melt and I could wash myself in semi-warmed water. 

I let out a disgusted grunt as I peeled away the borrowed clothes and placed them on the floor next to the cauldron for cleaning later on. Stripped down to my underclothes I settled on the bed, waiting for the snow to melt enough that I could dip my hand inside and scrawl a fire rune on the bottom of the iron. Until then, I resolved to lay back on the bed and try to get some more restful sleep. 

Letting my eyes fall closed, I wondered just what this Inquisition would ask of me in the long run. If I would ever get to reunite with my clan, or if I would die in battle. I missed them sorely, even before the conclave I had missed them. I felt the shakes of yet more tears being forced back. 

“Herald?” A new voice called from the door and I jolted upright in fright. 

“A moment!” I called, barely seeing the figure of a man from my place on the bed and I quickly pulled the covers over myself to hide my state of undress. 

“I was informed that you were feeling faint,” The voice, deep, gruff and masculine stated from the door and I nodded, surprised at the speed that he had appeared. 

“Umm, yes,” I muttered and rubbed my brow feeling the dizziness returning. “I’m sorry, I’m waiting for the snow to melt. You can come in,” I told him, holding the cover close to my chest to hide my form from view. He nodded as he walked toward me, pointedly keeping his eyes from the silhouette of me from beneath the cotton blanket. I noted he was wearing long circle mage robes and hoped that wouldn’t try to persuade me to join a circle. 

Haleir had told me a little of the Circle of Magi in passing, once even suggesting that it would be interesting to see if I could possibly join a Circle, to which I vehemently refused, after learning of the treatment of some mages under the circle’s rule and of the increasing erosion of the institute. The Healer carried with him a wooden case that rattled with glass and I could smell elfroot and embrium from within. 

“It’s probably your head,” He informed me frankly. “You took quite a bump when you staggered out of Maker knows where,” He added, setting the case down on the bed and gesturing for me to turn my head. 

“Have we met?” I asked softly, wincing as he gently prodded at the scab at the base of my skull. 

“I patched you up after you walked out of the Fade. Didn’t think you would make it to be honest. Worst fever I’ve ever seen, but the elf seemed to think otherwise,” He told me bluntly, having to hold my head still when he peeled back the scab and dabbed at it with crushed elfroot oil. 

“I wasn’t aware. Thank you,” I offered honestly, wincing openly at the sting as he applied the oil. 

“Yeah, well…you can pay me back by fixing the world,” He muttered, sounding uncomfortable with my honest gratitude whilst also focusing on my wound. 

“Name’s Adan. I’m in charge of keeping our little band here stocked with tonics and elixirs,” He explained directly, pulling back from my head enough to let me get a good look at him. Waxy, yellowing skin pulled tight over sharp cheekbones and hollowed cheeks gave him a sickly look, as though he had not eaten regularly for many days. The closely shaven brown hair paired with the roughly grown beard did nothing to take away from his harsh appearance. 

“Not that Seeker Pentaghast seems to care whether we’ve got the supplies to actually _do_ that,” He muttered, clearly frustrated as he shoved a healing tonic into my hands. 

“You know, for a healer you don’t seem particularly…. _nurturing_ ,” I mused light heartedly as I worked on uncorking the vial and lifting to my lips. 

“I’m _not_ a healer. I’m an alchemist who’s forced to play _mother hen_ ,” Adan huffed and I realised from his tone that this misunderstanding had probably been made dozens of times already. 

“You want something to burst into flame upon contact with the air? Done, I’m the man for the job,” He continued and I felt a smile tug at my lips from the sarcasm. 

“Patching up wounded soldiers is a waste of my time and talents,” He paused for a moment, as if remembering who he’s talking to and shaking his head sadly. “But there are few here who can help.” 

“I appreciate it,” I told him, my honesty seeming to stun him for a moment before adding “And I’ll be sure to keep you in mind for the fire,” with a grin. He chuckled softly as he pulled back from me. 

“This’ll need stitches, but the tonic should ease any dizziness,” Adan said, packing up his supplies and standing. 

“That won't be necessary,” Solas’s voice cut in suddenly and I jumped, pulling the covers back to myself tightly. 

“Messer Solas, I didn’t hear you come in,” Adan apologised quickly, though for what reason I did not know, and watched as Adan scuttled out of the room. 

“How much did you hear?” I asked softly after hearing the door to the cabin open and then close again, Solas standing over me somewhat intimidatingly, all sharp lines and rigid stature. 

“Most of his concerns are well founded. Seeker Pentaghast prefers to ignore his petitions for better supplies, favouring training the recruits,” Solas explained and I nodded silently, sipping at the tonic. 

“He said you required stitches, may I see?” He asked softly, the authority in his voice causing me to tilt my head toward him with little hesitation. He sat down in the spot Adan had vacated and I felt tiny tendrils of Solas’s magic knit the skin together. I sighed with the relief and relaxed into a metaphorical puddle in the bed. 

“Drink the tonic, it will help with the dizziness. You should also refrain from any strenuous activities for a day or two,” He informed me and I nodded quietly, a soft smile of relief playing on my lips and when I looked up at him to thank him, I found Solas smiling down at me before he collected his façade, nodded curtly and made his way for the door. 

“I will ask the quartermaster for some fresh clothes for you. And some soap,” Solas called from the doorway. I felt the chill of the snow from the open door and I bit my lip from the embarrassment of knowing my state of undress had not gone unnoticed. I heard the door close, assumed he had left me to my own business and sighed, gingerly reaching up and touching the healed cut on the back of my head. 

Looking over to the pot and seeing that the snow had not yet melted, I decided to lie back and get some more rest. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was night when I woke again, the light of the moon filtering in from the small windows, landing softly on the floor boards. I sat up and looked around curiously, still feeling disoriented, rubbing my head softly before swinging my legs over the bed and standing up. 

Someone had brought in a wooden chest and placed it next to the desk. I gently lifted the lid and found a number of sets of underclothes, shirts, leggings and over coats as well as a new set of armour, of much better quality than the mercenary garb. I felt the grin spread over my face as I pulled out the first set I laid my eyes on, silently thanking Solas for asking this quartermaster. I resolved to thank them personally tomorrow. 

Placing the soft cotton and wool clothes over the back of the chair to change into after I bathed, I noticed a small woven basket set next the fireplace and quickly investigated. 

Four small bundles of tightly woven cotton were inside and when I picked one up to inspect it, found it heavy and sweet smelling. I assumed it had some sort of soap in the centre and that you used the cotton to scrub yourself down. 

Beside the bundles were two phials of bright liquid. Uncorking one, I found it was intensely sweet smelling with a gentle earthy undertones and I wondered what the viscous liquid was for. Turning the glass around in my hand I spotted a note placed on the bottom with the words quickly scribbled _For Hair_. I giggled at my ignorance and lightly slapped my forehead in realisation and set the phial back down. 

In the bottom of the basket was a heavy panel wrapped in cloth and, upon unravelling it, found a small mirror and my smile was smaller now, worried to see what my hair looked like after the explosion. I set it back down without looking at my reflection, deciding to clean myself first before judging my appearance too critically. 

“Time to heat the water,” I breathed, giddy with the anticipation to bathe and finally get the gore off my skin. The snow had melted but the water was still quite cool and I had learned the hard way when I was younger that cold water and cold air was _not_ a good combination. 

I reached into the pot, the skin of my hand prickling up immediately at the chill, and pulling a thread of magic into my fingertip, scrawled a fire circle on the base of the iron cauldron, modifying it slightly to adjust the heat from unbearable to a relaxing warmth. As soon as I finished drawing the circle and withdrew my hand from the water, it glowed a subtle red orange and the water began to bubble and steam slightly as it came to temperature. 

Sniffing each of the small cotton bundles to see which one I preferred, I chose one that smelled of subtle tea with a hint of vanilla and honey. It wasn’t as strong as the hair oils, but immensely pleasing. The water had come up to a pleasant temperature and, after placing another log into the smouldering fire, I sidled up close to the pot, careful not to touch the metal for fear of burning my skin and dipped the bundle into the water and waited for the cotton to soak up enough of the water to activate the soap. 

The breath that left my mouth as I first stroked the warm bundle over the skin of my arm was near sexual and I silently hoped that no one was listening or would walk in to inspect me as I bathed. I grinned despite myself as a blush spread over my body and I hoped that it was from the heat radiating from the fire as the thought itself was horrifying enough. 

With the knowledge that I had forgotten to latch the door closed, I hurried my bathing, though still took time on my more delicate areas. I picked out one of the phials of liquid and turned it over in my hands, wondering just how I was going to get my hair wet enough to use it without sticking my entire head into the pot of water. 

Looking around the cabin, I spied an empty mug on the round table at the end of the bed and quickly retrieved it before dipping it into the water. I stared at the dripping mug for a moment before shrugging and kneeling over the pot to pour the water onto my head, massaging it into my hair and making sure it was well wet before setting the mug down. Resting back on my heels, I picked up the phial of golden brown liquid whose aroma matched the soap scrub and uncorked it gently, afraid I would accidently break the glass. 

I poured a small amount into my palm and quickly worked to massage it into my hair and work it into a thick lather, feeling the telltale thick clumps of gore and singed hair, bring a frown of anguish pull at my features. 

Dipping my hands into my pot, I quickly washed the suds off my hands before picking up the mug, refilling it and positioning myself back over the top of pot. I poured the water into my head, watching as the suds washed out of my hair and back into the pot. I repeated the rinsing a couple more times before pulling a thread of magic and heating it before weaving into my hair to dry it. 

The chill of the mountains was beginning to set in and I quickly pulled on the new clothes, though I found the numerous clasps and buckled excessive as I fumbled with them in the near dark. I was surprised to find them lined with a soft short fur like that of a rabbit. 

Noting the still full pot of water, I reached for the borrowed, ill-fitting mercenary clothing and, after separating the metal from the cloth, dunked them into the soapy water to soak until morning. 

With the feeling of finally being clean and refreshed, I picked the small mirror back up and unwrapped the cloth tentatively, afraid to see just _how bad_ I looked. 

The first thing I noticed was just how _short_ my hair had been burnt to. It stuck up in ugly tufts in all directions, some of them singed together at the ends and I sighed. I doubted I would be able to cut it back into submission, but resolved to ask Cassandra in the morning. 

Next was the scar on the right of my face, running through my eyebrow and half way down my cheek. It was noticeable only by the way it shone a little whiter than my unmarred skin. I gingerly touched it with a finger and felt it was soft and much smoother than a natural scar, and I knew it had been healed magically, probably by Solas. 

Other smaller changes caught my attention; hollowing cheeks, chapped and bloodied lips and yellowing bruises all along the right side of my jaw and down my neck. 

I grinned halfheartedly at my reflection, thinking it _could_ be worse, before gently setting it down on the desk. At least I wasn’t missing an ear. 

“Hey kid? You awake?” I jumped at the voice that called suddenly from outside the door, and I was thankful I had put down the mirror as I surely would have a broken it. I rushed to open the door for fear of seeming rude to whomever was waiting outside. 

“Ah, good, I was hoping you’d answer.” It was Varric, the surface dwarf, standing at my door with another mug and a lopsided grin, giving me the impression he had already been drinking for some time. 

“Hate to keep you waiting,” I answered quickly, mimicking his smile and moving to give him entrance. He nodded silently and half stumbled inside. 

“You look better. Well, better than you did covered in sweat and convulsing as you rambled on about Maker knows what,” He admitted nonchalantly and I smiled again, bowing my head in slight embarrassment. He had seen me whilst I was unconscious. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that. 

“Thank you…I think?” I replied and he nodded animatedly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” He answered with a gruff chuckle before pausing and looking around as if lost. 

“I came here for a reason…” He muttered and I watched him uncertainly, not sure what he meant. 

“Oh! Would you care to join me in the tavern?” Varric asked suddenly and I stared at him for a moment in confusion. 

“I’m not…” That meant people. Loud, drunk and boisterous _people_. I felt my heart quicken uncomfortably at the thought and worked on keeping my face blank. 

“It’ll be fun! Good food, good drink, good company, what’s there not to like?” He urged jovially, spilling his drink as he waved his hands enthusiastically. With almost comical timing, my stomach growled at the mere mention of food and Varric gave a full bellied laugh. 

“I suppose I should,” I consented gently and Varric motioned for the door as he took another long draught from the mug. I quickly checked the chest for some form of footwear, glad to find a pair of supple leather boots which I quickly pulled on and buckled up. It was odd to be wearing close toed shoes and I knew I would have to find a way around it. Perhaps Solas had a spare set of foot wraps? 

I followed the drunken dwarf’s stumbling to Haven’s tavern, _The Singing Maiden_ , and hearing the raucous shouts from inside had me faltering at the door, anxiety halting my motion for a moment before Varric grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. 

People were crammed into every nook and cranny, shouting and drinking and singing along with the one maiden in the corner who was struggling to be heard above the group. 

Panicking, I looked to Varric for guidance to find he had slipped away and was motioning from a table for me to sit beside him in possibly the _only_ free space in the building. I slowly made my way over to him, barely squeezing past the press of drunken, bustling people, my anxiety close to peaking as I noticed my hands starting to shake ever so slightly and my breathing becoming shallow. 

Once seated beside him, Varric slid me a tankard of alcohol that I took hesitantly, trying and failing to hide my shaking hand. 

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Someone shouted at me from above the noise of the patrons and I looked up to see Solas sitting opposite Varric and myself. 

“Why?” I asked simply, seeing the mug in his own hand. 

“Fereldan Ale is stronger to those who do not drink it often,” He told me before taking a sip of his own drink and offering me a bottle of what I assumed to be wine. He was practically telling me that I wouldn’t be able to hold my liquor. With a smirk, I lifted the mug to my lips and tasted the warm ale tentatively, eyes locked with Solas in challenge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used [ Right-in-the-Vhenan's](https://right-in-the-vhenan.tumblr.com/) Dragon Age: Inquisition inspired scented candles, since I'm no good at pairing aroma's together. Specifically, I referenced [The Dread Wolfs Heart scented soap ](https://www.etsy.com/au/listing/512915357/the-dread-wolfs-heart-soap?ref=shop_home_active_3) and [SYLAISE and JUNE ](https://www.etsy.com/au/listing/490190612/individual-evanuris-elven-pantheon?ref=shop_home_active_14) scented candles. You should really check out her etsy! She had a wide range of scented candles, lips balms, bath bombs and scented soaps! All hand crafted from natural ingredients!


	6. First Actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

I felt immensely uncomfortable looked out over the people of Haven after the ceremony, now sporting a strange metal pin on the lapel over my left breast of my new armour, and an eye in the centre of a sword ringed in light, the symbol of this so called _Inquisition_. I was not the only one to be given the pin, most of the agents now bore the symbol, including Seeker Cassandra, Varric the surface dwarf and Solas the self-taught mage. No, I was the only one had to be gifted the pin publicly. Cassandra had told me it would help with convincing the masses that I _wasn’t_ guilty of the Divine’s murder. 

I had noticed that Solas and Varric were not present when Seeker Cassandra had made the announcement to the people of Haven. While I wasn’t overly surprised at their absence, especially Varric after how much he’d had to drink last night, oddly I did feel a touch of disappointment. 

“There is something that requires you attention,” Cassandra murmured to me when the crowd had begun to disperse. I quirked a brow and turned to her confused, following her back into the Chantry. 

“Why? Why would you need my input?” I asked directly. 

“You bare the mark and you are the only one with the ability to close rifts,” She explained easily, as though it was obvious and I shook my head, deciding not to push it. I followed her through the halls, only a few Chantry sisters milling about, either speaking with each other or speaking the Chant of Light. I glanced at my palm before bringing it up to look more intently, aware that Cassandra was watching my movements. 

“Does it trouble you?” She asked gently, or as gentle as her accent would allow, seeming genuine in her interest, making my lips curl up at the comfort. 

“I’m not sure. I wish I knew where it came from, and why I can't seem to remember how it got on my hand,” I answered, looking up at her before pushing a hand through my still half-charred hair. 

“We will find out. Eventually,” She replied with a simple nod before we continued walking toward the main chamber at the back of the building. 

“What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt at sealing the Breach will be more successful,” Cassandra explained to me directly and I found that I liked her no-nonsense approach, even if her accent made everything sound hostile. “Provided the mark had more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. Which is apparently not easy to come by,” She added with a slight hesitation, as though I would be angered. 

“It sounds like you have something in mind?” I prompted and she smiled, caught out in her omission and nodded before gesturing to the large door. 

Pushing it open to reveal three figures gathered around the large table with what appeared to be a map and a number of small carved markers. 

“May I present Commander Cullen, the leader of the Inquisition's forces,” Cassandra announced abruptly from behind me and gesturing to the only male in the room. 

“Such as they are,” He said after a moment's’ hesitation, eyes raking my body as he took in the fabled _Herald of Andraste_. “We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before we’re through.” 

The Commander was human, but of course, but his appearance still had appeal. Fair skin and a strong jaw line, no wonder he was a warrior. His eyes were a soft warm brown with faint shadows showing his lack of sleep. Honey gold curls atop his head were brushed into something resembling control, paired with the smattering of facial hair of the same colour that I could tell was already growing back after being shaved. His most notable feature however, was the fierce looking, healed over scar cutting through the right of lips. I wondered what had caused such and cut and left such a cut, as I knew a knife would have cut straight through and into his teeth and gums. 

He wore the colours of the Templars though with that in mind, I was surprised to see none of the Templar motifs embossed into his breastplate or embroidered into his overcoat. 

“This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat,” Cassandra informed me, snapping me out of my thoughts and gesturing to the dark skinned human woman. 

“An'daran Atish'an,” She said in elvhen, almost fluently but I guessed from repetition rather than knowing my language. 

“Mar enaste lan em lath'in'iseth,” My response was almost automatic at hearing the words spoken toward me and from the look on her face I had promptly overestimated her knowledge on elvhen. 

“I’m sorry. I assumed too much,” I apologised quickly, feeling my cheeks going hot. I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck anxiously. _Fade swallow me._

“I…I only know that one phrase,” She replied, still coming down from the shock of my response to smile sweetly at me, jotting something down on her note board with a finely crafted feather quill. She was pretty for a human woman, even to me, with her warm mahogany skin and tightly bundled black hair. She had a slight under bite, though from her Antivan accent I wondered if that was coming where she was from. 

Her stature was impeccable, probably from being on her feet so much and wearing fluffy looking ruffled clothing that was seemingly woven out of gold made her a vision of nobility. 

“And of course you know Sister Leliana,” Cassandra said finally, nodding toward the hooded woman who stepped into view. 

“My position here involves a degree of -”

“She is our Spymaster,” Cassandra cut in, surprising both myself and Sister Leliana, though it was Leliana who recovered first. 

“Yes. _Tactfully_ put, Cassandra,” Leliana retorted with a hint of frustration in her voice. And I smirked, trying to hold back a giggle. 

“Well, that’s an impressive bunch of titles,” I replied, addressing all three of them at once with an awkward smile. “I suppose I should introduce myself too?” I added after a moment of silence. 

“That would things simpler,” Commander Cullen replied and I bit my lip, trying to hide the way my ears twitched. 

“Well then, Eirlana of clan Vunalen, at your service” I declared, trying to make myself seem more important than I actually was, bowing low with a sweeping arm while I heard what I assumed was Lady Josephine’s soft giggle. My small show having the effect I was aiming for, I rose to my full height, though still slightly shorter compared to the Commander, with a wide grin plastered on my face to see the Commander rubbing his neck awkwardly, Leliana shaking her head with a smirk and Josephine using her quilling holding hand to cover her mouth as she giggled. 

“ _Ear-lanah_?” Cassandra spoke first trying to wrap her mouth around the elvhen name and I smiled, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“That’s right,” I commented and she smiled before looking back toward the others. 

“I mentioned that we believe that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good,” Cassandra stated, getting the meeting back on track and I turned my attention back to the others in the room. 

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” Leliana offered and I nodded along. 

“And I still disagree,” Commander Cullen interjected quickly. “The Templars could serve just as well,” He finished and I winced. 

“We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-” Cassandra huffed with the frustration of having already going over this particular topic. 

“Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-” Cullen cut her off and I felt myself sighing. 

“ _Pure_ speculation,” Leliana jumped in and I began shaking my head. 

“I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.” Cullen seemed steadfast in his opinion of the Templars and I felt I needed to have some say. 

“As am I, _Commander_ ,” I interjected to Cullen’s surprise and I sighed, shaking my head slightly. 

“I am a _Mage_ , Commander. Templars nullify _magic_. The Mark is made of _magic_ , although of what kind no one seems to know. What do you _think_ will happen if a legion of Templars _nullify_ the Breach?” I asked him, not entirely sure that he would answer at all. 

“I suppose there is a chance that the Mark could also be suppressed?” He offered and I nodded my head in affirmation. _Pretty, but ultimately stupid._

“In either case,” Josephine interjected, clearly trying to avoid any conflict and I straightened up to balance on the balls of my feet. 

“Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced us – and you specifically,” Josephine informed the room, pointing to me directly. 

“I don’t blame them,” I half sighed, half chuckled. What did I care about the _Chantry’s_ opinion of me? 

“Shouldn’t they be arguing over who becomes the next Divine?” Cullen asked incredulously and I nodded along with him. 

“Some are calling you – a Dalish elf – the 'Herald of Andraste.’ That frightens the Chantry,” Josephine explained and I nodded in agreement. 

“The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy – and us heretics for harbouring you,” Josephine continued, as though reading from a list of topics. 

“Chancellor Rodrick’s doing, no doubt,” Cassandra scoffed and I smirked. 

“It limits our options. Approaching the Templars or the Mages for help is currently out of the question,” Josephine finished and I sighed. 

“ _The Herald of Andraste_. What exactly does that mean?” I asked, honestly confused with the title. Why would _anyone_ think _I_ would be interested in a human deity? 

“People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing.” Cassandra began to explain and I nodded, realising I had forgotten just _how much_ humans loved to gossip. Of _course_ what had happened had gotten around, the question I now had was just _how far_ this rumour had spread. 

“They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe it was Andraste herself,” Cassandra continued, her voice becoming more awe sounding as she spoke the Goddess’ name. I watched her speak, slightly perturbed, and quirked a brow at the almost comical shine in her eyes. 

“Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading-” Leliana added, snapping Cassandra out of her awe-filled staring of me. 

“Which we have not,” Cassandra cut in, much to the Spymaster’s chagrin. 

“Why not? I am _Dalish_. Don’t you people care that I believe in my own gods?” I asked them all, getting more frustrated the more I hear this title levelled toward me. 

“We know who you are and what you believe in, but the people don’t. Nor do they care,” Cassandra was the one to answer my anger and I pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing down my frustration. 

“The point is, everyone is talking about you,” Leliana chimed in and I huffed, giving her an exasperated expression. That was the last thing I wanted. Hopefully my clan hadn’t heard too much about _The Herald of Andraste_ yet. I would be banished for abandoning the clan, which was not what I wanted. 

“It’s quite the title, isn’t it? How do you feel about that?” Cullen asked, and I assumed he had mistaken my silence for contemplation and I levelled him with such a glare that he turned a bright red and shut his mouth tight, not daring to meet my eyes again. 

“I’m no Herald of anything, _particularly_ Andraste,” I all but growled out starting all others in the room. 

“People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, _you_ are that sign,” Leliana countered my anger with her smooth Orlesian accent. 

“And for others, a symbol of everything that has gone wrong,” Josephine spoke now, smooth and calm and I sighed, nodding in agreement as I tried to stem my agitation. 

“Shouldn’t they be more concerned with the Breach? The _real_ threat?” I asked incredulously, waving my hand in the general direction of the Breach. 

“They do know it’s a threat, they just don’t think we can stop it,” Cullen replied equally frustrated with the actions of the organisation. 

“The Chantry is telling everyone that you’ll only make it worse,” Josephine concurred and I rolled my eyes. Of course they are. 

“There is something you can do,” Leliana offered and I turned my attention to her, curious. 

“And that would be?” I asked, the anger from earlier now gone as I looked at the map. 

“A chantry cleric by the name Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable,” Leliana explained, gesturing to the map. 

“Why would someone from the Chantry help a declared heretic?” I asked, not feeling overjoyed at the thought of seeking out the cleric. 

“I understand she is a reasonable sort. Perhaps she doesn’t agree with her sisters?” Leliana offered in return and I smiled. 

“You find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded here,” Leliana pointed to a marker on the map not far from what I assumed marked our position. 

“In the Hinterlands, near Redcliffe,” The Spymaster finished and I nodded, stooping over the table to inspect the markers. 

“Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisitions influence while you’re there,” Cullen added abruptly and I looked up at with a quirked brow. 

“What does _that_ mean?” 

“We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them,” Josephine explained softly. 

“Okay, I understand,” I confirmed and straightened up to look at them. 

“In the meantime, let’s think of other options. I won't leave this all to…Eirlana,” Cassandra said, gesturing to me and I turned to her and smiled. 

“How long will it take to get to the Hinterlands?” I asked, pointing to the gap between the markers. 

“Approximately two weeks on the road, maybe longer if we don’t get held up too much by rifts or demons or bandits,” Cassandra explained and I winced. Two weeks on foot was not something I was looking forward to. 

“And when do we leave?” 

“We’ll send a scouting party out first, to stabilise an area to make camp before we arrive,” Leliana offered and I smiled. 

“We’ll be leaving in three days,” Cassandra answered my question and I nodded. 

“That I can handle,” I replied with a nod. 

“I do have one request before we all leave?” I asked the group. 

“Name it.” Cullen answered immediately. 

“What happened to all the…bodies from the Temple?” I asked, trying to hide my hesitation from them. 

“They were all moved to a shrine not far from here,” Cullen answered, pointing to the map. It was only a finger width from Haven, and I hoped that meant it was within a day’s walking distance. 

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper and I noticed the brief look of confusion shared between them before I straightened and looked to Cassandra. 

“Where would I be able to acquire a pack?” I asked her, remembering that all of my own possessions, including my pack, had been destroyed. 

“Speak to the Quartermaster, Threnn, she’ll be able to arrange a pack for you,” Cassandra answered as she directed me away from the table and out of the room. 

I left Cassandra and the other three dispersing at their own pace to find this Quartermaster, remembering to thank her for the supplies. 

Standing just outside the Chantry and wondering which way to go to find this _Threnn_ , Leliana came to stand beside me and point me to the two tents just past the small, makeshift stone fencing, mentioning that the larger one was hers. I nodded my thanks and moved toward the smaller of the tents. 

“Wait a moment?” I called after her and she turned slowly. 

“You manage the scouts yes?” I asked quickly and she nodded, quirking a finely shaped brow. 

“I was with someone at the Conclave, my brother,” I explained quickly, hoping no one else would overhear too much of the conversation. 

“I haven’t seen him since. I don’t even know if…” I didn’t need to finish. Leliana knew what I was asking and she held up her hand for me to stop. 

“I’ll send out a couple of people to scout around the Temple for him,” Leliana offered, leading me into her tent. “What does he look like?” She asked and I thought for a moment. How best to describe the mess that was my brother? 

“He looks a lot like me. Taller. More _pointy_. He wears Mythal’s Tree of Protection in a deep purple colour and his eyes are a pale grey,” I explained as concisely as possible without admitting I had nearly forgotten the finer details of my brothers’ appearance. Leliana nodded once and turned to the table in the corner of the tent and I assumed she was writing up a short description to give to her scouts. 

I left her tent and approached the smaller tent that supposedly belonged to the Quartermaster and noticed the slim pale woman stooped over the table. 

“Excuse me, are you Quartermaster Threnn?” I asked the woman tentatively, my anxiety not wanting to interrupt whatever she was doing. 

“If you’re here to clean, Hess can get you a bucket and a broom. Anyone calls you “Knife-ear”, you come to me,” She told me under her breath, not looking at me from her work. As loud as my anxiety was yelling at me to walk away, I felt the urge to retort to the comment on my ear shape. 

“ _Excuse me?_ ” I hadn’t been called that _particular_ name many times, but those times that I _had_ heard it levelled at me, it was in a derogatory many that I did _not_ appreciate. 

At this she stopped her work and straightened to look at me directly. I placed my hands on my hips, ready for whatever else this _human_ had to say to me. 

“Oh. You’re _Her_ , The Herald,” The Quartermaster tensed as she looked at me, realising just who she was talking to and though I hated the title, I hated being called _knife ear_ more. 

“My name’s Threnn, I’m the Inquisitions Quartermaster,” She told me quickly and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. 

“I know,” I retorted, fighting to keep my voice level and free from sarcasm. “I wanted to thank you for the new clothes and cleaning products,” I explained and she smiled slightly. 

“Messer Solas had insisted on getting them to you as soon as I was able. I had to ask Ambassador Josephine for the hair oils,” Threnn told me and I felt a slight blush in my cheeks at Solas’ insistence on my behalf. 

“I’m to leave on an expedition to the Hinterlands in three day. Do you think you could acquire a pack for me?” I asked and it seemed to throw her for a moment and she thought silently for a moment. 

“I’m sure I can find enough leather for that, though it might take a day to scrounge up?” Threnn offered and I nodded. 

“That will be fine,” I affirmed and she smiled, turning to write it down on a parchment on the table. “I appreciate the effort, thank you,” I added and she smiled, nodding once before I turned and walking back down the path toward my cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  An'daran Atish'an - A formal greeting; Greetings/Welcome;  
> Mar enaste lan em lath'in'iseth - The correct reply to the formal greeting; You grace warms my heart.


	7. First Rite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

“Hey! Kid!” I heard Varric’s voice ring out through the whistling wind and I turned to see him approaching me from a large fire between two large tents. I quirked a brow in confusion and pointed to myself. 

“Do you mind having a chat?” He asked as he stopped to stand in front of me and gestured back toward the fire. I considered for a moment and, realising I didn’t really have anything to do other than prepare to leave and find a dagger to cut off the singed parts of my hair, I shrugged and nodded. He smiled and led me back over toward the camp and checked on something that was simmering in the overhanging pot. 

“So, now that Cassandra’s out of earshot, are you holding up alright?” He asked without looking at me and I tilted my head. 

“After last night? Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered and he chuckled. 

“No, I mean in general. You go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful” He clarified and I made an _oh_ shape with my mouth before grinning as I considered an answer. 

“I mean, most people I know would have spread that out over more than one day,” He muttered and I smirked at his tone. 

“I’m just glad I’m still standing after all that. Though, I’ll admit, I can barely keep up with it all,” I answered trying to make it seem light-hearted. 

“Hmmm, that’s makes two of us,” Varric replied gruffly and I tilted my head again. “I still can't believe you survived Cassandra, though. You’re lucky that you were out cold for most of her frothing rage,” He added, covering his concern with a smile. Then with a sigh, he turned away and looked toward the Breach. 

“For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what else fall out of it. _Bad for morale_ would be an understatement,” Varric said aloud as though he was recounting it all to himself, before he turned to me and added, “I still can't believe anyone was in there and _lived_.” 

“If things are so bad, why stay? Cassandra said you were free to go,” I asked, brows furrowing slightly. “If could just high-tail it out of here, I would but,” I raised my left palm and sighed before adding, “No such luck.” 

“I like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next person, but this…” He trailed off, sounding disapproving of my answer, then looked off toward the Breach again. 

“Thousands of people died on that mountain. _I_ was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky. Even _I_ can't walk away and just leave that to sort itself out,” He told me, sounding like he was admonishing me on my desire to leave and I sighed. 

“You don’t need to remind me,” I murmured, thinking for perhaps the tenth time today of my missing brother. 

“I’m still not sure I believe that any of this is really happening,” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, my good mood ruined. 

“If this is all just the Maker winding us up, I hope there is a damn good punch line coming,” He replied and I smirked at irony, not bothering to correct him on my beliefs. 

“I’d still recommend running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognise where this is going. Heroes are everywhere; _I’ve_ seen that. But that hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes,” He turned back to the pot of stew and gave it a quick stir with a metal spoon sitting on the ground before muttering, “We’re going to need a miracle.” 

I wandered off toward my cabin, wondering what to take with me up to the shrine. I doubted I would be able to find the correct mixture of royal elfroot, embrium and arbour blessing vines for burning, but I would make do with what I could find. It’s not that I knew the proper words to the prayers to Falon’din and Dirthamen, so I doubted it would matter too much. I would just have to do my best on behalf of my clan. 

So I went to my cabin and scrounged together a basket, a couple of candles, two feathers from the caged black raven and a fallen branch of the cedar tree outside the cabin before deciding that the apothecary hut will be the best place to find any extra herbs. 

I passed Varric on my way and quickly asked the way to the apothecary’s cabin. 

“Past the tavern and up the steps. Chuckle’s place is right next to it,” He told me and I nodded, thanking him quickly before continuing. Up the steps were a small group of three cabins and I stood at the top of said stairs, looking between them with hesitation. With a shrug, I chose the one directly in front of me and walked inside, glad to have chosen the correct cabin. Adan was busy talking with two other Inquisition agents so I was able to sneak in, grab a couple of sprigs of dried elfroot and embrium and leave without being noticed. 

Only to run into Solas. 

“Herald,” He addressed me simply and I cringed both from being called that and being discovered. 

“Solas, I, um…can explain?” I offered hesitantly as I tucked the dried herbs into my basket. He smirked slightly and waited for my explanation and I sighed, defeated. 

“I’m heading up to the shrine where the bodies from the Temple are buried to perform the Rite of Passing,” I explained quickly, feeling like I had been caught by my Keeper sneaking off to the nearest Shrine of Fen’Harel. Solas blinked for a moment, seemingly taken aback with my explanation, tilting his head slightly and I assumed he considered something. 

“Would you mind if I accompanied you?” He asked eventually and that surprised me for a moment before answering. 

“No, of course I don’t mind,” I answered lightly though it was a half lie. Usually city elves were not tolerated during my clans’ rituals, but I supposed it didn’t matter too much since I was to perform the Rites for city elves as well as the other Dalish that were at the conclave. He smirked slightly before gesturing for me to lead the way and I took a breath to steady my nerves before moving. 

I tried to ignore the stares of the soldiers training and the few Chantry Sisters milling about outside the stone wall surrounding Haven as Solas and I walked up the path toward where I hoped the Shrine was. 

“May I ask a question, Da’lan?” Solas asked as we made our way around the path and I looked over my shoulder at him. I thought about it for a moment as I stepped up a steep part of the path. I had questions of my own I wanted to ask, but even to me they sounded invasive. Especially when I imagined myself initiating the conversation. 

“How about we trade?” I asked in return and again he seemed thoughtful before nodding. 

“You ask first, you’re older,” I told him and I heard him chuckle. 

“Ma nuven’in,” He said softly and I felt the tips of my ears begin to redden. 

“I still do not know your name, Da’lan,” Solas spoke his question so softly I almost missed it in the whistling winds around us. 

“Oh is that all?” I was surprised at his question and I remembered he had asked this before and that I had not truly answered, thinking it hadn’t mattered. 

“My name is Eirlana, of clan Vunalen,” I answered honestly over my shoulder, hoping he had heard me and I turned my attention back to the path. If I squinted, I could just make out the grey shapes of statues and the red of Chantry robes. 

“Vunalen, an interesting clan name,” He commented and I puffed my cheeks slightly, not sure if to take it as a compliment or an insult. 

“I suppose. I haven’t really thought about it before,” I replied trying to sound light. If I could watch his reactions I would have, but I needed to focus on the path as it began to steepen again. 

“It suits you,” Solas added after a moment of thought and my ears dipped in embarrassment. 

“Thank you,” I answered, trying to hide the smile that was tugging insistently at the corners of my mouth. 

I took the last few steps of the path and emerged into a semi-sheltered half circle clearing of still visible graves, most of them unmarked. I sighed, feeling the weight of dead around me, the sheer number astounding me, leaving me speechless. My mouth went dry and I felt my chest tightening as I thought of the sheer loss of life and the fact that I was _the only survivor_. 

I took a shaky breath and, aware that Solas was standing behind me and watching me, I walked to where I thought was the center of the line of graves and set the basket and branch down. 

I looked around a saw groups of Chantry sisters singing the Chant of Light with a number of civilians joining them and felt the anxiety rising again. 

“Ga son?” I heard Solas ask, cutting through the silent air of the Shrine and the oddly faraway Chanting of Light and making me jump. 

“Y-yes, I’m just…remembering…” I replied, distracted and nervous with all the people around to witness the ritual. I probably should have expected the people, if I was being honest with myself. I don’t know why I was suddenly so terrified of performing the Rite. I supposed it had something to do with the audience. Especially since they believed in the Maker and Andraste and thus scorned all other religions. 

I shook my read in an attempt to destroy the thought and instead focussed on my task. I took a steadying breath and looked around for any look rocks. 

“Do you mind helping? I need some rocks,” I asked Solas quietly, trying not to get the attention of the group of singers. 

“Rocks? What for?” He asked in reply and I quickly squashed my sudden panic at his clear confusion. 

“You’ll see,” I replied and he inclined his head after a moment’s consideration. We split off to find some rocks after I quickly explained what size they should be. I found four easily enough and Solas quickly returned with three more and an apology that he couldn’t find any more that fit the description I had offered. 

I piled them together before kneeling in the earth and began to arrange them how I had seen my Keeper, aware of Solas’ eyes watching my every move and that a few of the singers had noticed my presence. I silently prayed that they wouldn’t try to approach me. 

Taking the two longest of the stones, I placed one end in the earth, grinding it in until I was sure it wouldn’t topple over with the impending weight of the others. After making sure that two sky facing ends of the stones were level, I balanced the third stone length ways, using small sigils of binding to make sure it stayed put. Then a smaller rock in the center, pointed skyward with another sigil of binding, then another lengthways atop it. The final stone was a longer one than even the two holding the structure up, set in the center and pointed toward the sky. 

“Impressive,” Murmured Solas and I tried not to let my ears redden as I focussed. I noticed that more of the singing group had noticed me and were gossiping to themselves about what I was doing. _Let them wonder_. 

“Candles come next,” I whispered to myself, pulling the basket close and pulling out the three candles I had taken from my cabin. Placing them on the left and right of the bottom most stones and the last slightly in front, I gently set them alight with magic. 

“That leaves, the herbs, the branch and the feathers,” I murmured to myself. The last steps. It was time for the prayers. 

“How is your elvhen?” I asked Solas from my kneeling place, taking a moment to pull out the feathers and set the branch aside for afterward before turning to look at him over my shoulder. His face seemed blank as he considered me, kneeling in the dirt performing some strange ritual. _Strange to him, maybe_. But his eyes were bright with…amusement, maybe? I supposed I didn’t blame him. I probably seemed the fool, covered in dirt, heaving rocks into what could _barely_ pass as a shrine, about to speak an elvhen ritual of Passing in common for a bunch of Andrastians. 

“It is…adequate,” He answered after a time and I smiled in thanks. He already knew what I meant to ask. 

“Come. Stand beside me,” I motioned to him and watched him hesitate, a glimpse of something uncomfortable flash in his eyes before he moved to stand on my left. Where the Hahren would stand if we were back at my clan. _Fitting_. 

I took a deep breath to calm my final nerves. I _could_ do this. I put the Chantry singers out of my head as I recalled the words for the Rite. 

>   
>  _**O Falon’Din**  
>  _
> 
> _Lethanavir – Friend to the Dead_
> 
> _Guide the feet of those passed, calm the souls who may linger_
> 
> _Lead the dead to rest in peace_
> 
> **_O Dirthamen_ **
> 
> _Amelanorel’uis – Keeper of Secrets_
> 
> _Whisper your wisdom to those who have passed_
> 
> _Impart your secrets to those who walk with your brother, Falon’din_
> 
> _Let the dead here your words and know them as truth_
> 
> **_Let the souls of those passed return to us anew_ **

My voice was clear through the wind around us and the sound of the growing group of Chanters. I was proud of myself. My voice hadn’t cracked or faltered. I hadn’t stumbled over any of the words. _If only my Keeper could have seen me _.__

Solas translated it all perfectly and kept time with me easily. I waited until he had finished the final line before taking up the cedar branch. I easily broke it in two, then two again and placed the four pieces of branch inside the tiny shrine. Finally I took up the two feather in one hand and concentrated. _This is the hardest part._

I set the tips of the feather alight, letting the flame engulf them slowly as I placed them on the pieces of cedar branch, catching them alight after a moment. _Here we go_. 

Concentrating on the flames, I tried desperately to recall the right sigils and circles for the final part of the Rite. Closing my eyes, I focused my will into the flames, and with an audible fwoosh the circles and sigils were set, turning the flame a deep purple black and ensuring that they would remain burning indefinitely without drawing on my mana. 

I sat in reverent silence for a while, both out of respect and to let my mana recover from the taxing casting, watching the flame dance and burn at the cedar branch and feathers without actually charring them.

Finally, I gathered up the herbs, almost forgotten in the bottom of the basket, and tore them into small pieces and tossed them into the flames to smoke and smoulder.

“You honour them well,” Solas murmured from beside me, jolting me out of my silence. I looked up to him from my place to study him. To make sure he wasn’t mocking my attempt at the Rite of Passing. Suddenly, I wondered if he had ever seen a Rite of Passing. But his face was calm and smiling down at me, albeit only slightly. 

“Thank you,” I replied, smiling back up at him before moving to stand, proud at my efforts. “You spoke well, have you done this before?” I asked as I dusted off my knees. 

“Most clans I have come across do not allow such access to strangers,” He answered and my brows furrowed for a moment. Not exactly a straight answer, but I understood the intent. 

“I know the feeling,” I huffed in response and looked over the Chantry group staring at my creation, shock thinly veiled in some faces, in others openly outraged. 

“We should be going,” I said quickly, hearing the sound of many feet approaching me from behind and I had no doubt that the Chantry Sisters just _could not wait_ to berate me for my blasphemy. Solas briefly glanced over my shoulder and I saw a flicker of worry before he focussed back on me and nodded quickly. I picked up the basket and we quickly withdrew back down the path, hoping that the Sisters wouldn’t follow. 

Despite myself, I began to giggle as we jogged down the path back to Haven. I even heard Solas crack a chuckle for a moment, though whether it was _at_ me or _with_ me, I couldn’t tell. 

“Do you think that was wise?” Solas asks me when we reach the gate to Haven and I shrugged. 

“Wise? Probably not. But I wasn’t the only Dalish elf at the conclave, and I knew the others well enough that they wouldn’t want a bunch of Chantry Sisters praying for their souls to be sent to the Makers side,” I explained to him confidently. 

“I suppose then, you were right,” He answered after a second of considering my words and I smiled softly. 

“Thank you, I appreciate the help,” I told him and he allowed me a smile then. I found that I liked his smile. “And the company,” I added softly and he seemed to clam up, the smile disappearing to be replaced with something akin to dismay. _Fool_. 

With an internal sigh at my stumbling, I turned to walk inside the gate and back to my cabin to see if my pack had been procured yet. 

“You did not ask your question, Da’lan,” Solas stated plainly and I stopped, considering how to continue. I had forgotten. 

“It is…unimportant. Don’t worry about it,” I replied hesitantly with a non-committal shrug of my shoulders. He frowns and crosses his arms behind his back, standing up straighter. I realised now just _how_ tall he was; my hair would barely tickle his nose. He looked confident and commanding and… _well_. 

“We agreed on a trade, and I would see you question answered,” He declared confidently and I blinked in confusion, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. I briefly considered covering my ears with my hands so he didn’t see the effect he was having. 

“It’s a silly question. You will not like it,” I replied softly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Did we have to do this _here_? In front of Haven with everyone in view? 

He stature relaxed somewhat then, as though he realised it was having more of a negative effect than positive, and tried to force a smile. Trying to ease my anxiety. 

“Every question is a gift in disguise,” Solas mused softly and I smiled at that. “And I do not have to like a question to answer it,” He added with a nod. 

“If you insist,” I murmured, really just wanting to be out of the eye of the public. 

“We can discuss it over a drink, perhaps?” He offered lightly and I sighed, feeling a slight relief to be out of the direct eye of the soldiers, Chantry Sisters and Cassandra. 

“Gladly,” I answered and followed him inside the gates and toward the tavern, somehow picking up a half inebriated Varric along the way. 

“So, your question, Da’lan?” Solas asked easily as we slid into a couple of spare seats in the corner of the relatively quiet building, Solas handing me a mug of chilled ale before taking a sip of his own. 

“Solas, do you…shave your head?” I asked softly, hiding behind the rim of my mug. He snorted and it sounded like he choked on his drink, making me giggle. I felt the tips of ears redden again. 

“Ahem, no?” He answered slowly, his eyes dancing with amusement and a poorly hidden smirk. “What would… _that_ is your question? Why?” He was truly confused and a slow grin spread over my face and my ears twitched with held back laughter. I reached up and plucked at a few of the singed together lumps of my hair before running my hand all the way through it. 

“I was hoping you mind give me a hand with… _this_ ,” I explained gesturing to my hairs and I could almost see the light go off in his head. 

“I will do what I can,” He murmured and we sat in barely held together silence before I started to giggle again at his outburst, causing him to smirk and shake his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Falon'din - Elvhen god of death and fortune, who guide the dead to the Beyond;  
> Dirthamen - Elvhen god of secrets and knowledge/wisdom;  
> Fen'Harel - Elvhen god of betrayal/rebellion. Commonly known as the Dread Wolf;  
> Da'lan - Little one/Young one/Child. Lan implies female;  
> Ma Nuven'in - Your want/wish. As you wish;  
> Ga Son? - Everything well? All good?  
> Hahren - Old respected person/elder/teacher. Usually the clan story teller & history keeper;  
> Lethanavir - Friend of the Dead. The Dalish name for Falon'din.  
> Amelanorel’uis - Keeper of many secrets. The Dalish name for Dirthamen.


	8. First Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

The rest of the day had been uneventful. Solas had accompanied me to my cabin and had used a special folding dagger that he called a _straight razor_ to cut my hair into something that was less _just-survived-an-explosion_. In truth, I had only seen that type of knife in the hands in the few shem’len my clan had herded out of the mountains and I wondered why Solas would possess one. Unless he borrowed it from Cullen? 

I found it was incredibly sharp and cut my hair with ease as he glided the blade near my scalp, exposing the large curved scar at the base of my skull. I gently instructed him to cut away the singed together lump of hair and leave the rest as long as was now possible on top. 

I thanked him afterwards and he left me to my solitude, though it didn’t feel as rude as it might have seemed to others. After the Rite, my first as a _Tael_ I had realised while Solas had been cutting, I felt as though I needed time to reflect on the event and to rest my now bone weary body from the extreme mana usage. I had not realised that the spell had such a high cost, though that would explain why only the Keeper or _Sael_ usually cast it. I was unsure of what to do now, as the Keeper would usually invite the grieving family and bonded into their aravel for…I didn’t know what. Silent reflection seemed appropriate. 

I also wanted to avoid being caught by Cassandra or any Chantry Sisters. I did not feel like a lecture on the blasphemy of my religion. 

Eventually I started to consider what I should bring to this expedition to the Hinterlands. I didn’t really have much in the way of possessions now, so I mused that it would consist mostly of bathing items, clothing, writing materials, my weapons and tonics and elixirs from Adan. 

The next two days were just as unremarkable. The only thing to break the monotony of avoiding any and all Chantry clerics and training myself for the long journey ahead was the arrival of my new pack from Threnn and that I had persuaded the human merchant, Seggrit to trade some thick straps and cords of leather for my boots. Though he had called me, and the elf that had woken me, a knife ear to my face. I had berated him severely and he now believed he had a curse of poor luck upon him, though in reality I had merely told him to go suck Fen’Harel’s cock, which had gotten a loud snort from Solas. 

I had quickly sewn the leather into simple foot wraps, though they were nowhere near as good as my own, but they would do for now. At least until I procured better materials or the coin to buy them. 

On the night before we were to depart I sat down at the desk in my cabin with a bowl of meat and vegetable stew, a loaf of bread and a mug of warmed ale. I intended to write a letter to my clan to let them know that I was still alive and that as far as I knew, Haleir was missing, or possibly dead. I sipped at the slowly cooling ale as I wrote and got at most halfway through my message before I realised that I had no way of getting it to them. I doubted any of Leliana’s runners would be able to find them, despite their skill. And any regular coloured raven that flew too close, provided they made it through the unpredictable mountain weather, would be shot down and eaten or returned message-less. And there was no guarantee that my message would be passed along to the Keeper. 

I gave a frustrated sigh and put down my quill before taking a hefty draught of ale and pinched the bridge of my nose. It was not as if I couldn’t just _fly_ the message to them myself. I had the ability to. But the mark would most likely interfere with my shifting and I did _not_ wish to test any theories of what might happen. An elf sized arm on a falcon was uncomfortable and hard to undo, if not hilarious to observe. 

Besides, I would be missed. 

Cassandra stopped by at some point to instruct me get as much sleep as possible and that we were to depart by dawn the next day. She addressed me sternly as _Herald_ , telling me of her disapproval of my little stunt at the shrine. I inquired about the scouts and our destination. Cassandra informed me that the scouts were holding a camp in the outskirts and that we would encounter more rebel mages the closer we got to Redcliffe. I bid her goodnight and she closed the door behind her. 

I shook my head as I finished off my meal and ale, rubbing at my temple and idly running my hand through the remains of my hair. In truth I did not know what danger I was headed into. Haleir knew more of the Mage Templar conflict than I did, that was for sure. 

I slept uneasily, the anxiety causing my heart to race and mind to wander to the missing pieces of memory surrounding the Conclave and my brothers’ whereabouts. 

It was Varric who woke me just before dawn’s first light, offering me a warm loaf of bread with butter and cheese melted into cuts in the top. I took it gratefully, eating as I dressed and slung my pack over my shoulder, my staff nestled between my shoulder blades. 

It was possible that my nervous energy was to blame for the slight bounce in my step as I rushed to meet the other three. Varric almost seemed to be still asleep as we begun the long trek, ambling along with barely more than a grumble. Solas seemed more alert, but it was almost grudgingly so, as if he resented being awake. Cassandra was undoubtedly accustomed to such early hours, as she led our small team down the trails and roads. I idly wondered if it came with being a Seeker. 

We walked in silence for the most part, each of us content within our own thoughts. I enjoyed watching the sunrise from behind the mountains, casting a sheet of gold over the landscape which slowly dissipated as the day progressed. 

Eventually Varric piped up and tried to play simple travelling games and we all played along for a while except Cassandra. I supposed she had probably heard them all if they had travelled to the Conclave together. After a while, though, it became boring and we all encouraged Varric to stop. _Loudly_. 

When the sun reached its highest, Cassandra called a stop for lunch, which seemed to please Varric greatly enough for him to exclaim so loudly enough to scare off the birds in the trees directly surrounding us. Cassandra produced two small buns of fruit bread and three apples which we split between the four of us. Solas offered me the last apple, but I refused, insisting elders first. 

“You heard the kid, Chuckles! Eat up, don’t want you getting _tired_ ,” Varric commented, barely making it through before he collapsed into laughter at his own joke. Solas scoffed and shook his head. 

“Says the man grumbling about his back all morning,” Solas retorted, receiving a snort from Cassandra and myself. “Ma serannas, da’lan. It is appreciated,” Solas turned to me with a gentle smile. I tried to smile back, but my mouth was full of fruit bread so I could only close my eyes and nod enthusiastically, earning another laugh from Varric. 

Soon enough we were back on the road, occasionally passing people heading toward Haven who walked with purpose and solemn expressions on their faces. 

By late afternoon Cassandra suggested we look for a place to camp for the night and we diverted from the road to find a spot. It was Solas who found the small oval clearing, and we all decided it was the best we were going to find. After we set up our bedrolls, Cassandra delegated jobs to each of us and we split off to complete them. Varric was sent to gather wood for the fire; Solas set wards to repel animals; Cassandra was hunting animals for dinner and I was finding water and refilling the water-skins. While I did my job well, I felt a little offended that I wasn’t doing the hunting. 

We sat around the campfire after Solas set it alight, Cassandra cooked a stew of two rabbits she had somehow managed to capture and Varric told us a story about the adventures of the Champion of Kirkwall, not that many of us were listening too closely. I was laying back on my bedroll, studying the stars and wondering how far we had travelled. I lifted my marked hand up to the stars and watched the gentle pulsing glow of the green spider web-like tendrils spreading out from my palm. 

“Da’lan?” Solas asked quietly, sitting casually and sipping at his bowl of stew. I turned toward him in acknowledgement, awaiting his question silently. 

“Is the mark troubling you? Does it hurt?” He asked and I smiled shyly, my ears dropping a little in embarrassment. He had caught me studying it. 

“No, Hahren, just…curious?” I answered and he nodded thoughtfully as he swallowed another mouthful of stew. I was thankful that Cassandra had gone to sleep after finishing her stew and Varric was close to passing out. 

“Are you not hungry?” He asked with a quirked brow. I shook my head slowly and lowered my hand back to my chest, palm down to smother the green glow. 

“I don’t eat much, not while travelling,” I answered his unspoken question. He watched me closely with a frown before handing me his bowl of stew. 

“You need to eat. You need your strength just as much as I,” Solas told me sternly, insisting I take the bowl. I looked between the bowl and him for a moment before taking it from him slowly. 

“Have I offended you, Solas?” I asked quietly, my ears still dropped low as I slowly lifted the spoon to my lips. It was horribly bland and I tried to hide the grimace, wishing Cassandra had allowed me to cook instead. 

“No, da’lan. Varric has offended me,” He answered with a slightly softer tone and took another sip from his refilled waterskin. “I am not as _infirm_ as he may believe,” He muttered and I stifled a laugh, not wanting to wake Cassandra. 

“How old _are_ you, Solas?” The question slipped out without warning and I quickly turned red, filling my mouth with stew as not to ask another embarrassingly blunt question. However, Solas chuckled softly and looked instead toward the sky. 

“How old do you _think_ I am, da’lan?” He replied wistfully and I furrowed my brows, thinking of an appropriate age that would fit his knowledge and skill. 

“Perhaps mid-forties? 42 years?” I guess and his ears turned pink and he smirked. 

“You guess well, _Eirlana_ ,” He replied softly, breathing my name with almost a purr, making a blush rise in my cheeks and the tips of my ears. 

“Stop flirting with the Herald, Chuckles,” Varric murmured and I turned my face away in embarrassment as Solas almost growled at the drunken slur of the dwarf. 

“We should get some sleep, da’lan,” Solas told me softly, his voice slightly strained wither either annoyance or frustration, I couldn’t tell. I nodded and quickly finished the bland stew before setting the bowl down and climbing into my bedroll. 

After that we fell into a rhythm. Wake up, walk, rest, walk, sleep. It was interrupted occasionally by the odd rebel mage or rogue Templar, though Cassandra usually dealt with them. One day after lunch the mark sparked loud and bright enough to startle our group and I ended up using it as a compass, leading us toward a group of demons and an open rift, which we closed quickly enough. We made good time and arrived at the outskirts camp within the two weeks Cassandra had initially told me. 

When I saw the red of the scouts camp tents, I rushed ahead of the others to meet them and finally sit down and rest my feet. I was greeted by a fit young dwarven woman with red hair closely braided to her head and a bright smile. 

“The Herald of Andraste!” She announced to the others milling about the camp as I stopped in front of her and waited for the others to catch up, panting slightly. She smirked knowingly as I reached for my waterskin. 

“I’ve heard the stories. Everyone has. We know what you did as the Breach,” The woman said with awe in her voice and I shook my head. 

“I’m glad you know, because I’m still not really sure _I_ do,” I replied light-heartedly and she smirked and tilted her head slightly. “But please, call me Eirlana,” I added when she smirk turned to a confused frown. 

“It’s odd for a Dalish elf to care what happens to anyone else, but you’ll get no back talk here. That’s a promise!” She informed me with an almost dry tone and I nodded in thanks, not bothering to correct her on my clans’ outlook on the rest of the world. I heard the steps of my companions come to a stop behind me and she looked at each of us before announcing herself. 

“Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I, well, all of us here, we’ll do whatever we can to help.” 

“Harding, huh? Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?” Varric replied and from his tone I could already tell he was winding up for a joke. We all turned to him with annoyed glares, trying to communicate to him to stop without speaking. 

“I can't say I have. Why?” Harding answered and bless her, she was genuinely confused. 

“You’d be _Hard_ ing in…oh, never mind,” Varric started his punchline, but thankfully stopped when he realised whatever joke he had planned was about to fall on uninterested and unknowing ears. Cassandra scoffed loudly and shook her head. 

“Honestly, I’m starting to worry about these _stories_ everyone’s heard,” I told Harding, rubbing the back of my head anxiously. 

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” She replied with a smirk. “They only say you’re the last great hope for Thedas.” She added with a humour that made Varric snort and I rolled my eyes. 

“Oh, fantastic, no pressure,” I answered dryly. 

“The Hinterlands are a good a place as any to start…fixing things,” She told me, guiding me to a map on a small folding table at the edge of the camp and we all moved to follow. 

“We came to secure horses from Redcliffe’s old horse master. But with the Mage Templar fighting getting worse, we couldn’t get to Dennet. Marker only knows if he’s even still alive,” She explained to us as we looked over a map of the area. She pointed to a place on the map near the western edge. 

“This is where we are, the Outskirts.” Then to a point on the other side of the map. “This is Redcliffe farms, where Dennet and his family live and breed his horses,” She told us and Cassandra asked her why Dennet would be willing to help. 

“I grew up here, and people always said that Dennet’s herds were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. If anyone can convince him it’s you,” She answered with a smile before pointing to another position on the map, this one only finger widths from us. 

“Mother Giselle’s at the Crossroads, here, helping refugees and the wounded. Our latest reports say that the war has spread there, too,” The scout explained before turning to us, to _me_ , and adding “Corporal Vale and our men are doing what they can to help protect the people, but they won't be able to hold out very long,” She informed us directly and we all nodded, knowing why to look for once we got there. 

“We’d best get going then, No time to lose,” I exclaimed, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the amount to do and the ground we had to cover to get it all done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Shem'len - Dalish term for humans meaning quick children;  
> Tael - Dalish clan Second, as in Second Mage after the Keeper;  
> Sael - Dalish clan First, as in First Mage after the Keeper;  
> Aravel - Dalish caravan;  
> Ma serannas, da'lan - My thanks, young one;  
> Hahren - Old respected person/elder/teacher. Usually the clan story teller/historian.


	9. The Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

It was barely a two hour walk before we were knee deep in rebel Mage and rogue Templar conflict. As we approached there were just piles of bodies on the sides of the road. Templars lumped together with Mages, it made no difference now. And the smell was enough to make me gag more than once. 

We came across the remains of a small village, burnt down and destroyed amid the fighting. Inquisition scouts were firing arrows into the fray but were mostly being deflected by wards and shields or missing their marks altogether from the constant movement. 

“Inquisition forces! They’re trying to protect the refugees!” Cassandra called out in a warning, telling me we should avoid their line of sight as much as possible. 

“It looks like they could use a hand!” Varric answered and we all pulled our weapons free. 

I felt Solas’s ward float over me as we moved further into the burnt out settlement, passing the lumps of magic ice on the side of the roads and the few refugees running in the other direction. Solas and I stayed back, flinging magic from the edges of the battlefield as Cassandra and Varric moved closer, though Cassandra was the only one to jump bodily into the fighting. 

We encountered Templars first. Foot soldiers and knights and archers at every turn. Cassandra called to them, trying to explain that we were _not_ apostates and were, in fact, friendly, though Solas commented that it seemed they did not care. I had to agree. The way they fought it looked as though they had gone mad, either through Lyrium withdrawal or by the sheer amount of people they’d killed. 

As per Templar training, they were constantly suppressing our magic, making the very _air_ feel thick as we flung shards of ice and balls of flame. It shouldn’t have been so unexpected when Solas’s barrier shattered from the Templar nullifications and I quickly worked on casting another as Solas seemingly floundered with the sudden absence. He simply glanced at me with a nod of thanks as we continued. 

Out of nowhere, something solid smacked my barrier hard enough to shatter it and send me flying. I hit the ground hard and struggled to get back on my feet and seeing that a Templar Defender had thrown me across the battlefield. Heavily clad in metal armour, sturdy metal shield raised to deflect our arrows and magic and sword swinging with dangerous accuracy. 

I regained myself as fast as I could, though I did notice Varric’s worried glance in my direction as he fired another arrow. Back on my feet and another barrier, of Solas’s make, surrounding me, I tried my best to use my ice to slow him. It was barely enough to frost over his armour and I cried in frustration. 

I _hate_ Templars. 

A more complicated spell would cost more mana, but I chose to risk it and cast a quick burst of white lightning bolts that would circle around the Templar, negating his shield and hit the weakest point of his nullification barrier. He stumbled, allowing Cassandra to get in close enough to strike a killing blow, nearly severing the head. 

I felt bile rising up from the sight of it and turned away and retched up my lunch. After a second I felt a hand on my back, stroking gently and a second hand passed me a waterskin. 

“Ea son, da’lan?” Solas’s gentle words murmured to me as I washed my mouth out with water and spit it into the grass before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. 

“Te’son, sarennas Solas,” I answered feeling slightly breathless. “I’m not used to _so much_ …animals are fine but… _this_?” I babbled to the three of them and they shared worried looks before a loud scream interrupted my rambling. Solas easily dropped a barrier over us as we turned our attention to the screaming mage running toward us. 

I felt my hands begin to shake even as I flung more ice and white lightning bolts, revulsion at some of the bodies _literally exploding_. This time I wasn’t the only one turning green at the sight. 

Several apostates later we were finally in the clear, no more screaming madmen flinging magic at us just as readily as we did them. Sometimes even turning our own spells back on us. Though our barriers negated them easily. 

“We are victorious,” Cassandra breathed as she quickly wiped her sword clean and slid it back into his sheath. Solas held out his waterskin for me again, but I waved him off with a thankful smile, saying that I nothing left to throw up. 

Cassandra casually searched the bodies for anything useful and managed to produce a couple hundred coins and split them between the four of us, cleaning the blood off them before handing them out. 

The Crossroads was only a few minutes’ walk from the destroyed village and I shuddered to think of what might have happened to the refugees that had settled here had we been any later. There were wounded soldiers and civilians everywhere and Solas split away from us to aid them. We approached a pair of fur clad soldiers that Cassandra informed me were from Redcliffe’s own forces. They were hammering an Inquisition notice into the corner of the road for all to see. They greeted us silently, with a closed fist over their hearts as per usual for Fereldans and they directed me toward Mother Giselle. 

I found her tending to a Redcliffe soldier holding his bloodied abdomen. 

“There are mages here who can heal your wounds. Lie still,” She soothed the man, her Orlesian accent soft as if speaking to a child. 

“ _Don’t_ …let them touch me, Mother. Their magic is…” He was stammering, in fear and pain and I knew he wouldn’t survive much longer without attention, magical or otherwise. 

“Turned to noble purpose, their magic is surely no more evil than your blade,” She chided and I felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips. Leliana was right. She is rational thinking. 

“But…” He argued, though there was no real effort behind it, simply habit speaking for him now. 

“Hush dear boy. Allow them to ease your suffering,” She insisted, albeit gently and he conceded, lying back and allowing a mage to approach. 

“Mother Giselle?” I asked softly and she rose gracefully to her feet, allowing me to get my first look at the woman. Warm sorrel complexion scattered with soft wrinkles give her the wise appearance of a grandmother. 

“I am. And you must be the one they’re calling _The Herald of Andraste_ ,” She replied, walking toward me slowly with the gait of someone has spent much time on her feet. 

“Not through any choice of mine, I’m afraid,” I answered, though I didn’t want to offend her should I need to correct her on my beliefs. But instead she chuckled and gave a nod. 

“We seldom have much say in our fate, I’m sad to say,” She replied softly, as though she knew how uncomfortable it was for a Dalish elf to be given the title of a deity they did not believe in. 

“So you agree with them?” I asked, more than a little confused. 

“I don’t presume to know the Maker’s intentions for any of us,” She replied quickly before adding “But I did not ask you to come simply to debate with me.” 

“Then why _am_ I here?” I asked and she led me away from the soldiers. 

“I know of the Chantry’s denouncement, and I am familiar with those behind it,” She stated in a calm voice as we walked, her Chantry robes jostling as she lifted them slightly to avoid them getting caught on any twigs. 

“I won't lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine,” Mother Giselle told me directly and I was thankful for her openness. “Some of them are simply terrified, so many good people, senselessly taken from us,” She finished and I sighed, feeling that guilt rise in me again. 

“What happened was horrible, I’m sorry,” I replied as best I could without my voice cracking and she nodded softly in acknowledgement of my guilt. 

“Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason,” She replied and I found that I liked her reasoning. “Go to them, convince the remaining clerics that you are no demon to be feared,” She told me and my eyes widened in surprise in what she was implying. 

“They have heard only frightful tales of you, give them something else to believe.” Her instruction had me baffled. It sounded like she was asking me to provoke them for her own amusement, knowing whatever happened would benefit both of us. 

“You want me to appeal to them?” I asked, confused. How would I do that? They only know me as a Dalish elf parading as something I’m not, a _knife ear_ supposedly blessed by their goddess. What could I possibly do to change their minds of any on that? Is was not as if I could just cut off my ears and grow a foot taller! 

“If I thought you were incapable, I would not have suggested it,” She replied wryly and I huffed. 

“Will they even listen?” 

“Let me put it this way; you needn’t convince them all, you just need some of them to…doubt,” She explained clearly and I began to understand. “Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you will receive the time you need,” Mother Giselle added and I thought about it for a moment. I supposed what she was saying would work, though how I would…

“So I show up, say hello, show them the mark on my hand and…what?” I ask incredulously. I honestly didn’t see this working out well. Did they even let Dalish elves into the capital? 

“I honestly don’t know if you’ve been touched by fate or sent to help us but…I hope,” She told me truthfully and I hung my head, feeling slightly scolded. “Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other,” The woman told me honestly and I smiled, knowing I wasn’t alone in my personal doubt about the whole situation. 

“You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us…or destroy us,” The woman warned softly and I looked at her in shock. She thought _I_ was leading this organisation? 

“What will you do now?” I asked, noticing she hadn’t stated her intentions now that our meeting was done. 

“I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana with the names of those in the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can,” Mother Giselle told me and I nodded. 

“Thank you,” I replied as she walked away to soothe another wounded woman. I sighed and scratched the back of my head, feeling slightly overwhelmed, before moving to find Cassandra and explain what Mother Giselle had told me. She thought the idea of meeting with some of the clerics was a good idea and I suspected she was jealous she did not think of it herself. 

“Corporal Vale is coordinating the Inquisition’s efforts in the area, we should speak with him while we are here,” Cassandra suggested and I nodded, hoping to help the people caught up in this mess as much as possible. I nodded and she pointed toward a small out of the way Inquisition camp where he was overseeing some scouts training. 

“You’re with the Inquisition?” He asked when he saw me, as though he was surprised that I was a Dalish elf. I supposed my origins was already being washed out with the whole _Herald of Andraste_ business. He was a short man for a human, wearing Inquisition issue scout armour of green cloth, brown leather and a standard steel breastplate with the burning sword-eye embossed into the center for all to see. 

I pointed out my Inquisition pin and he smiled, nodding once as he saw his mistake.

“Thanks for your help. The Mages and Templars don’t seem to care who gets caught up in their war,” He told me with a hint of exasperation in his voice. 

“These refugees are in dire need of help. If the war doesn’t kill them, cold or starvation will,” He explained to me regretfully and I nodded. 

“What can I do to help?” I asked, feeling personally responsible. 

“We’ve got some injuries that go beyond stitches and elfroot. I know healers are in short supply, but if you can find someone in Redcliffe that will help us, it would save a lot of lives,” The Corporal explained to me and I nodded. Healing the wounded was on my list anyway and I planned to do as much as I was able before moving on. 

“Anything else? Do the people need food, clothes?” I implored to him, anxious to help as much as humanly possible. _Or elf-ly possible_. 

“Both. There’s a hunter over by the stone house you can talk to for idea on food. And a recruit named Whittle is trying to make what we _can_ bring in, last. He’s in charge of finding more blankets and warm clothes for the refugees. He’s across the road if you want to talk to him,” Corporal Vale explained and I nodded eagerly, more than happy to help. 

I walked over the road to where Corporal Vale had pointed out Recruit Whittle and introduced myself as just a regular Inquisition agent wanting to help. 

“Corporal Vale informed me you might have some ideas on how to get these people more blankets and warm clothes?” I inquired and he nodded. 

“There are Apostate caches in the hill, we just haven’t been able to find them. I’m sure they have more than enough supplies to keep these people warm,” He told me adamantly and I nodded, thanking him before I walked back toward the center of the small, makeshift town to gather our little group together. 

“These people need food and warm clothes, we can all see that, right?” I conferred with my companions and they all nodded. 

“There are also many wounded that need attention,” Solas added and I nodded in agreement. 

“Agreed. I talked with Corporal Vale and Recruit Whittle and they have some ideas,” I told the group and I practically see their ears pique in interest, Solas’s literally. 

“Cassandra and Varric. Recruit Whittle tells me there’s apostate caches in the hills somewhere with extra supplies that can help, if you find any, mark them on Whittle’s map,” I told the Seeker and Dwarf who both nodded un succession of their name being called. 

“And do some hunting while you’re out there. Rams, rabbits, fox, whatever you can find with meat,” I added quickly. 

“What about you?” Cassandra asked and I smiled. 

“Solas is going to stay here and heal as many and much as possible,” I explained before turning to the mage in question. “If you’re in agreement?” He spread his hands and smiled with a slight shrug of his shoulders. 

“Ma nuven’in,” He answered and I smiled, glad he had no arguments. 

“And you?” Cassandra asked again. 

“I’m going to forage for as many herbs as I can possibly find,” I answered with a smile. 

“Are we all in agreement?” I asked the group and heard a resounding yes. 

“I’ll get us a couple of rooms at the inn and we can meet back there at dusk,” I added before we all moved off and they nodded in agreement again. 

I sighed happily and followed Solas toward the inn where most of the wounded were being kept and arranged for two rooms for the night, handing over the small amount of coin that Cassandra had looted from the dead Templars. I knew it wouldn’t cover the cost of the rooms, but the inn keeper was glad to have the Inquisition protecting the area and was happy to make up the extra cost. 

I gave Solas an encouraging pat on the shoulder on my way out and paced into the hills with eyes keen on finding medicinal herbs. 

After a good twenty bundles of elfroot stuffed into my pack, I began to make my way back to the crossroads. Four rebel spellbinders attacked me whilst I was foraging, though I convinced them to calm themselves and that I was only trying to help the refugees and amazingly, they stopped, actually going to so far as to apologise. They each offered me a Lyrium potion in a way to apologise to the people and I thanked them, finding room for them in my pack. I asked about the apostate cult I had heard about in passing from the villagers and they pointed me in the direction of the far ranges of the Hinterlands area, telling me they were wanting to meet with the Herald and that there was a Fade rift in that area. 

I bid them safe travels and we parted ways, glad that I hadn’t needed to spill anymore blood for the day. I resolved not to tell Cassandra, expecting she would probably disapprove of the interactions. 

Solas was depleted when I returned, sitting on a stool in the corner and watching another man stitch up a gash in a woman’s arm with interest. I greeted him and handed him a Lyrium potion and asked him not to inquire how I came about it. 

“I don’t want Cassandra to know,” I murmured sitting down opposite the man and pulled my magic into my hands, hovering them over the stitches in hopes of helping. 

“That’s nice and cool,” The woman breathed and I smiled, glad to be of use. “Thank you,” She whispered to me and I nodded in acknowledgement, waiting a few more moments, until the stitching was finished and tied off and the woman was sleeping before withdrawing my magic. 

“Did you find much?” Solas asked softly, his voice tired. I pulled off my pack and pulled out the bushels of elfroot, laying them on the floor before sniffing my pack, happily surprised the contents now held the smell of herbs. 

“This will go far, well done,” Solas commended and I beamed at him, glad for the praise. 

“Stay here, rest, I’ll go check if Cassandra and Varric had returned,” I told him softly, getting up from the stool and walking toward the door. It was turning dark and I had to summon a light to find my way, but were glad to see the Seeker and Dwarf sitting with a group of hunters, skinning and cutting away chunks of meat from several rams and a number of rabbits. 

“Quite a haul,” I announced myself before approaching, so I didn’t startle anyone into slicing their hand open. 

“Herald, how did your foraging go?” Cassandra asked as I came to stand beside her. 

“Well, plenty of elfroot to last the next month,” I answered honestly and she nodded in return, her only praise and I smiled. 

“Impressive, Snowflake,” Varric said and I took me a moment to realise he was addressing me. 

“Snowflake?” I asked, confused. 

“He gives people _nicknames_ ,” Cassandra explained quickly, her voice dripping with barely contained sarcasm and Varric chuckled. 

“And mine is Snowflake? Why?” 

“Your hair is white, you’re as pale as a ghost and as Chuckles explained to me, your name means _Winter_ ,” He explained to me and I had to roll my eyes. 

“You sound like my brother,” I admonished playfully before walking back to the inn to help ease what remained of the wounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  Ea son, da'lan? - Are you well, young one?  
> Te'son, serannas Solas - I'm alright, thanks Solas;  
> Ma Nuven'in - Your want/wish. As you wish.


	10. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to [ Witch Wondering](http://witchwondering.tumblr.com/) for being my beta and reading through this to make it actually makes sense!

Cassandra and Varric joined Solas and myself inside when the moon was peeking over the horizon with bowls of stew from the rams that the hunters had begun either cooking up for the refugees or cutting it into strips for jerky. We sat in the main room of the inn sharing stories, drinking ale and sipping at stew. Thankfully, the hunters had cooked and thus the stew was much more flavoursome than what Cassandra had cooked on the road. 

It was late by the time we made it to our beds. Cassandra _insisted_ that we share a room and that Varric and Solas have the other room I had rented. While I was flattered by her attempt at propriety, I felt slightly uncomfortable sleeping within reach of a human, especially a buff woman warrior, but I accepted as gratefully as I could and plunked my pack down on the small, wooden framed bed. 

“Should we bathe?” I asked as I dug through the contents. As I was pulling out my night shirt, one of my small soap bundles had come with it and I had suddenly felt the grime of the near two week trip. Cassandra glanced between myself and the small bundle in my hand. 

“If you wish,” She replied and I smirked. 

“I know you want to as well,” I chided and she let out a single laugh, allowing me a rare smile as she looked away. I looked around the room and peeked into the hall for any signs of a bathtub, but found none. With a wince, I left the room and went to the innkeeper to inquire about a tub and was told that there was a single tub in the communal bathroom. I thanked him, though felt suddenly homesick for my clans’ bathing hut. 

I was accustomed to sharing amenities with my clan members, but never with humans. Or city elves for that matter. 

“The innkeeper tells me there is a tub in back room,” I informed Cassandra and we both looked at each other in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before either of us spoke. “You can go first, if you’d like?” I offered and she blushed suddenly. 

“Are you certain?” She asked and I nodded, happy to be alone for a while and out of the judging eyes of the Seeker. She quickly gathered her clothes and her own bathing supplies and headed down the hall. She was back in less than a minute, however, with a request for me to set a fire circle to heat the water. 

“Of course!” I exclaimed, feeling foolish that I hadn’t gone with her to do it in the first place. She stood beside me quietly as I reached into the tub of chilly water to set the circle in the center of the bottom. 

“You were impressive out on the field today, Cassandra,” I told her hesitantly, trying to give a compliment. “Kind of a…force of nature.” 

“I am, when I need to be,” She replied and I could hear the weariness in her voice. “But you flatter me.” 

“I’m trying,” I said lightly and she gives me a playful roll of the eyes before a laugh. I smile and turn to leave before a hand on my shoulder stops me. Cassandra is looking down at me with the silent request that I stay. 

“You want me to stay?” I asked quietly, needing confirmation of her intentions. 

“Yes,” She replied bluntly and I felt a blush rising in the tips of my ears. “For protection, of course,” Cassandra added quickly, seeing the colour in my ears and face and I huffed awkwardly, turning my back on her quickly so she could undress. 

“Of course!” I affirmed, though it came out in more of a squeak and I hoped she wouldn’t notice too much. I heard the thunk of her armour being placed on the floor and the soft splash as she entered the water. I crossed my arms, suddenly unsure of what to do with them and shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. 

“Did I do the right thing?” She said in such a serious tone I felt chills rolling down my back as I tensed. 

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently and she huffed. 

“What I have set in motion could destroy everything I have revered my whole life,” She explained sternly and I got the distinct feeling she wanted to be stabbing something right now instead of sitting naked in a bathtub. 

“Do you mean the Inquisition?” I asked softly, trying to calm her forceful words but I doubted she had heard me as no response came. 

“One day, they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool,” She continued seemingly to herself as she washed. I almost felt like an unwelcome intruder in this dialogue. 

“What does your faith tell you?” I asked solemnly and she huffed again, though this time it sounded less like she wanted to hit me with something. 

“I believe you are innocent. I believe that there is more going on here than we can see,” She admitted harshly, as though she felt responsible for not anticipating the whole event of the Conclave. “And I believe that no one else cares to do anything about it. They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot,” She elaborated and I giggled at the last part. 

“They _do_ care, though more about prosecution and the election of a new Divine than healing the hole in the sky,” I replied and she grunted in agreement. 

“But is that the Maker’s will? I can only guess,” Cassandra said more quietly and I hung my head in understanding. 

“You don’t think I was chosen? That I’m the _Herald of Andraste_?” I asked, trying to make out exactly what she was asking. 

“I think you were sent to help us. I _hope_ you were,” She answered softly, as though conceding a great secret. “But the Maker’s help takes many forms. Sometimes is it difficult to discern who it truly benefits, or how,” She added almost immediately. Did she think it was me, _a Dalish elf_ , sent by the Maker to help my people and not hers? From what I could remember, I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and got embroiled into this whole _Inquisition_ thing because of a mysterious magic mark. 

“So, what happens now?” I asked hesitantly. 

“Now, we deal with the Chantry’s panic over you before they do even more harm,” She explained and I nodded. 

“Because I’m a Dalish elf, not even from an Alienage,” I murmured and she paused in her bathing for a moment. 

“I will not lie and say I know the Maker’s will, but…yes,” She admitted and it stung. I felt ashamed that it chose me. It should have chosen someone else, someone who actually _believes_ in the Maker and his Wife. 

“Then we close the Breach. We are the only ones who can,” Cassandra added and I smiled again to myself. _I_ was the only one who can. It was her job to make sure I didn’t die or flee. 

“After that, we find out who is responsible for the chaos and we _end them_.” The loud splash from the tub almost made me laugh at the image of her smacking the water as she would hit the thing that killed the Divine. 

“And if there are consequences to be paid for what I have done, I will pay them,” Cassandra finished with a sigh, as though it was worse than the impending doom of the Breach. 

“You didn’t have any choice,” I remarked, trying to make the conversation lighter. 

“Didn’t I?” A rhetorical question and I didn’t bother to answer. I didn’t know if she actually _had_ a choice, but the one she made seemed like a good one. 

“My trainers always said ‘Cassandra, you are too brash. You must think before you act’,” She told me, mimicking it in an unfamiliar voice. “I see what must be done and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail.” The analogy was a good one, and I understood her meaning. I was somewhat the same, though my anxiety sometimes interfered. 

“But, I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day.” She sounded so upset with herself it was hard for me to stand there and not interject. “I cannot afford to be so careless again.” 

“It wasn’t like you had _no reason_ to suspect me,” I replied. “The only person to make it out of the Conclave alive with a strange magic mark in her hand? Sometimes I wonder if I really am to blame.” It was the truth. Every night on the road I had thought about it, the guilt of the dead almost crushing me. 

“I was determined to have someone answer for what happened. _Anyone_ ,” She conceded and I sighed. She was silent for a time, and I shifted uncomfortably again. 

“You’ve said…you don’t believe you’re chosen,” Cassandra started and I turned my head toward just enough to indicate that I was listening. “Does that mean you also don’t believe in the Maker?” She said it like it was a shock to her and I had to keep myself from scoffing at the question. 

“I’m _Dalish_. I believe in our own gods,” I told her dryly. 

“And there’s no room among your gods for one more?” She asked incredulously and the question was almost enough for me to turn around and curse. 

“Is there room next to the Maker for Mythal? And Sylaise? Or June?” I asked her incredulously, offended that the question needed to be asked at all. 

“That’s not how it works,” She retorted and I huffed. 

“Do you even _know_ how many gods are in our pantheon?” 

“No, I do not.” 

“I won't waste my time explaining it. It doesn’t matter.” 

“I have to believe we were put on this path for a reason, even if you do not,” She told me as though I was being scolded for being wrong. “Now it simply remains to see where it will lead us,” She finished and I huffed again, tired of standing and of hearing about the Maker. I had heard her pray to him and Andraste every night while we travelled. While she prayed for fair weather and safe travels, it only served to tell me just how out of place I was. How _unwanted_ my faith was. 

“I’ll bathe in the morning,” I told her sternly before I moved for the door. “On nydha.” I stormed out of the bathing room and back to our shared room to rummage through my pack again and pull out my elf root scented night shirt. After checking that the door was closed, I quickly stripped down and slipping my night shirt over my head and arms, pulling it down to cover me properly. 

I climbed into the bed, trying to make myself comfortable when the door opened and Cassandra strode into the room. She did not speak to me, nor I to her as I rolled over to face the door and give her some privacy. I heard her getting into the bed and then a second later the room was dark. 

Despite my weariness after healing so many, it took some time to actually fall asleep or, as close to it as I would get, it turned out. 

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, willing Cassandra to shut up and more than I once I considered throwing a pillow or something to wake her up enough to stop snoring. 

I clamped my head between the pillow and the bed to try and muffle the noise and it worked for a while, letting me get just a touch closer to falling asleep. But it suddenly got louder and I guessed she had rolled onto her back, blocking even more of her airway. 

“Ugh, I can't take this anymore!” I cried loudly enough to startle her awake. She looked at me with half closed eyes and I tried not to glare too hard at her. 

“Herald? What’s wrong?” She asked sleepily and I huffed, exasperated. 

“I cannot sleep with your snoring!” I retorted, getting out of the bed and bundling my clothing back into my pack. 

“I do _not_ snore,” Cassandra contested, a little more alert now and sounding offended. 

“You _do_ , and _loudly_ ,” I repeated and left the room, walking down the hall a little to the door where the men slept. I hesitated for a second, my anxiety not wanting to wake them up, but when faced with another night of barely any sleep, I felt I had no other choice and knocked. 

It took a moment before the door opened just a crack and I spied a slim portion of Varric’s face before he opened the door properly. 

“Snowflake?” He mumbled, clearly still half asleep and my stomach turned knowing that I had woken him. 

“Switch with me,” I demanded softly, my frustration simmering down by the second. He quirked a brow before poking his head out enough to see the Seeker half standing in the hallway in her sleeping gown and frowning at me in exasperation. 

“Why?” Varric asked then, turning back to me and I guessed he was only capable of single word questions at this point. I idly wondered how much he’d had to drink. 

“Cassandra snores, and I cannot sleep with it anymore,” I answered, trying to keep my voice down, aware that we were not the only patrons staying at the inn. Varric considered for a long while and I looked to Solas shyly, though he looked more confused than anything else, rubbing his head in the sleep addled confusion as he sat up in the bed. 

“Alright,” He sighed with a shrug of his shoulders and went to collect his pack and the mug on the small table between the beds, sitting abandoned next to the still burning candle. I moved slightly to the side to allow him to pass and he ambled past and toward the room with Cassandra. 

“Herald, you are not sleeping with Solas,” Cassandra argued and though I turned bright red, I turned her with a frown. 

“No I am not. I am sharing a room with Solas because he does not snore,” I retorted and entered the room, closing the door behind me. Solas looked completely confused as he pointedly tried not to look at me, specifically my lower half, I set my pack down and climbed into the bed, which was still warm. 

“That was not handled very well, da’lan,” Solas softly chided me, sitting up in bed and I sighed, knowing it to be true. 

“I know, Hahren,” I replied softly as I tried to make myself comfortable again. “But I’m no use to anyone if I’m walking around half dead and sleep deprived,” I mumbled in response, feeling the blanket of sleep quickly claiming my mind. 

________________________________________

_I was running._

_As fast as my legs could take me._

_But I wasn’t moving._

_I was stuck._

_On what?_

_Looking down, my legs were frozen in a barrier of blue magic._

_Pulsating._

_I looked around me, for anyone who can help._

_There were people everywhere._

_Though none of them looked right._

_Fluttering and floating over the ground._

_I could see right through them._

_They didn’t look real._

_Suddenly, I was flying._

_Not high and not far._

_I hit the ground._

_Red filled my vision as I rolled over._

_The Templar was standing over me._

_A mage in its grasp._

_A gauntleted hand wrapped around the mages head._

_Templar grinned and squeezed the mages neck._

_Blood splattered its armour and face._

_It didn’t care._

_It reached for me and I screamed._

_Magic flew out of me as I scrambled back._

_‘No! Don’t touch me!’_

_No._

_No!_

_**NO!** _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ _Eirlana!_ ” Solas’s voice broke through my nightmare fuelled haze and I sat up quickly. I was surrounded by Solas’s barrier, a small green glowing bubble, slightly frosted over. I looked to Solas, who slowly lowered the barrier, looking as distraught as I felt. I blinked a few times quickly, scratching my head to be sure that I wasn’t still asleep. 

“Are you alright?” He asked softly and I whipped my head up a little too quickly, making myself dizzy. 

“Y-yes,” I answered softly, looking first at my hands and then around the room, seeing frost covering the walls and fireplace at the other end of the bed, though it was thicker closer to where I was sitting. “Just a nightmare,” I breathed softly. I heard Solas sigh and felt shame rise, hot in my cheeks. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this…” I began, talking quickly and saw Solas shook his head slightly, holding up a hand for me to stop. 

“It is alright, da’lan,” He sighed again, getting out of the bed and going to the small fireplace and quickly setting the logs inside alight to help dispel the frost. “In truth, I worried that you wouldn’t be affected at all by the killing,” He explained and I shuddered from the word, trying to make myself smaller on the bed as I observed him. He had bags under his eyes and his hand shook a little as he placed more logs into the fire. 

“You look…tired,” I mumbled absently and he turned and stared at me with intensely sarcastic blankness. “I’m mean…weary. Did the Lyrium potion help?” I amended and he shook his head softly. 

“No, unfortunately, it did not,” He told me softly and I slowly slipped my legs over the edge of the bed. 

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked quickly, which seemed to surprise him, turning his head to look at me with lifted brows as he watched me approach, making me hesitate for a moment. “If that’s okay?” 

“You should not waste your mana on me, da’lan. My stores will be refilled by morning,” He answered and I sighed, my shoulders sagging just a little. 

“It’s not a waste Solas,” I retorted and forgot my anxiety, pooling chilled healing magic into my hands and hovering it over where I guessed his shoulder blades would be. He sighed again, his body sagging a little, though this time it was in what I hoped was relief. 

“Ma sarennas, Eirlana,” He whispered and my skin rose with goose bumps as the sound of my name. 

“De da’rahn, Solas,” I replied, trying to keep myself from smiling. I hovered my hands slowly over his shoulders, never touching the thick wool fabric of his tunic. More than once I wondered what it would feel like under my fingers, but pushed those thoughts out of my mind. It was not my place to think such things about my elder. 

“So, The Chosen of Andraste? A blessed hero to save us all?” Solas said aloud and I snickered, shaking my head slightly. 

“Am I riding in on a shining steed?” I replied sarcastically. 

“I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly they’re extinct,” He answered with a light tone and I smiled. “Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.” 

“ _Posturing_ ,” I murmured, the word feeling odd. A strange choice. 

“I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilisations. I’ve watched of hosts of spirits clash to re-enact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten.” Solas’s speech was soft and calming, the lilting tone of his voice gave it the feel of poetry. 

“Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be?” An unspoken question and I felt a frown pulling at my features. Indeed a question I had been wondering myself and one I certainly couldn’t answer at this point. 

“What do you mean ruins and battlefields?” I asked instead and he smiled, and I guessed he acknowledged my shift in conversation. 

“Any building strong enough to withstand the rigours of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. _Both_ attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds,” He explained with a soft smile, stretching his back slightly, causing me to adjust where I was hovering my hands slightly so as not to touch him unwillingly. 

“When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen.” His voice sounded wistful and far away, as if recalling such memories as he sat here before me, staring into the fire as I eased his weariness. 

“You fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins? Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked, slightly doubtful and he huffed out a single laugh. 

“I _do_ set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live,” He answered and I grimaced and shuddered with the thought of giant spiders. 

“Usually,” I muttered and he chuckled again. 

“That’s impressive, though. I’ve never heard of anyone going _that_ deep into the Fade,” I told him and he straightened slightly with what I would call pride. 

“Thank you. It’s not a common field of study, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning,” He replied, turning toward me slightly before adding, “Or spears of ice,” and I grinned. 

“The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand year old dream? I would not trade it for anything.” The faraway quality of his voice returned and I stopped for a moment, leaning over his shoulder slightly to view his face. 

“ _Anything_?” I asked, feeling slightly upset at the notion. I wasn’t sure why but knowing that he would prefer his dreams in the Fade over being with people in the waking world, though I wasn’t vain enough to think it was because he preferred it over me. 

“I will stay, then. At least until the Breach has been closed,” He informed me and I frowned, slightly confused. 

“Was that in doubt?” I asked, suddenly concerned if I should expect him to just disappear at random. 

“I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a Divine mark protecting me,” He told me, slightly sarcastic. “Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution,” He added and I nodded silently. They had said that in the Chantry building after I had woken up. I was being protected by this mark and not much else. 

“You came here to help, Solas. I won't let them use that against you,” I told him sternly, determined to keep my word. 

“How would you stop them?” He asked softly, as though he did not expect the admission. 

“However I had to,” I answered, strong in my conviction and he chuckled softly. 

“Thank you,” was his answer and I could tell he was definitely not expecting my declaration. He shifted uncomfortably and my marked hand fell on his shoulder accidently as he cleared his throat. 

“For now, let us hope either the Mages or the Templars have the power to seal the Breach,” He added softly, touching my hand for a second in a silent command for me to stop and he got up from the floor. 

“We should try to get some more sleep,” Solas suggested softly and I blushed again as he looked down into my face with a soft, thoughtful smile. “Lest we all walk around half dead and sleep deprived,” He added, turning my own words against me and I chuckled awkwardly, the tips of my ears feeling hot. 

Without words, he gently led me to my bed and motioned for me to get in and make myself comfortable and I did as I was bidden. When I looked back to him and watched he set a small ward on the wall above my head. 

“For the nightmares,” He explained simply and I looked at it for a moment, studying the symbols and sigils but not recognising any before Solas went to his own bed and made himself comfortable. I laid down and pulled the blanket up under my chin and watched him, knowing just how odd I must look. With a quick glance at me, he blew out the candle and the room was once again dark, save for the flickering yellow light of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Elvhen to English:**  
>  On Nydha - Goodnight;  
> Da'lan - Young one/Little one/Child. Lan implies female;  
> Hahren - Old respected person/elder/teacher. Usually the clan story teller/historian;  
> Ma serannas, Eirlana - My thanks/Thank you, Eirlana;  
> De da'rahn, Solas - No problem, Solas.


End file.
